


The Wolf, The Bat, and The Spider; Year 2

by IrishDame777



Series: The Wolf, The Bat, and The Spider [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:54:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24365389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrishDame777/pseuds/IrishDame777
Summary: After a year plagued with missing animals, harrowing mishaps, and a mad wizard playing God, Abigail O'Connor is looking forward to a quiet year of teaching. However, when students start slipping into comas and unseen forces begin attacking teachers, she realized this year will be anything but relaxing. At least she has Severus Snape there to help her solve the case.
Relationships: Luna Lovegood & Harry Potter, Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Wolf, The Bat, and The Spider [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758808
Comments: 16
Kudos: 24





	1. A Rough Start

Abigail O’Connor was not ready to face the school year. Her summer vacation had not been peaceful and relaxing. She did not feel refreshed. Instead she felt knackered and worn down. Just days after having returned to Ireland her mother had come to tell her that Rose’s group had been spotted in Florida in the United States. Abigail and her cousins had spent almost the entire summer chasing them through three states before finally conceding that they had lost them. The missing children reports had died off quickly and none of the RV’s they followed gave off a hint of magic. She had given them the slip again.

“Dammit!”

Abigail swiped a hand through the air and a tree split near its base, crashing to the floor of the forest. The trunk was blackened and dead where it had broken and she stared at it feeling annoyed with herself. Her parents would not be pleased if they could see her loss of control. She would be twenty-seven this month and she still couldn’t keep her temper or her powers in check. Growling under her breath she stormed the last few yards out of the Forbidden Forest and up to the castle. The students would be arriving in just a few short hours.

* * *

Severus Snape’s eyes followed O’Connor as she left the forest, feeling slightly surprised she hadn’t noticed his presence so near her own. He readjusted his grip on his ingredient bag and looked back the way she had come. Had she been responsible for the tree that fell? Why was she in the forest to begin with? He didn’t think it likely that she apparated into the forest and come back to the castle that way. With her fear of spiders she wouldn’t want to be that far into the forest to be able to do so.

He frowned when he came upon the tree that had fallen. It was not a small fir and he didn’t see any spell damage. The trunk looked like it had simply rotted away near the roots. However, there was no sign of deterioration anywhere else on the tree. Feeling more curious than ever about his mysterious colleague he tracked her footprints back the way she’d come. They stopped in an area rife with thick bushes, leading into something of a hovel. Inside was a small pile of smoldering logs.

_A bonfire? She_ flooed _here; straight onto the grounds? Just who the hell is this woman?_

Snape was loathed to admit it to himself and refused to acknowledge the feeling, but he had been slightly disappointed that O’Connor had not written to him over the summer. Without wanting to he had looked forward to receiving a letter from her. Something to brighten his dreary days spent in the dung heap that was his parent’s old house. He hated that old home but he spent so much of his year at Hogwarts he didn’t see the point in buying or renting a new place when it was perfectly livable.

Due to that, a small feeling of betrayal had grown; bringing back his initial dislike of the woman. With it came feelings of mistrust and anger. She had spouted all her nonsense about feeling that she could trust him now and that she believed he was fighting for their side, but what about her? He knew nothing of her. Perhaps she was the one who couldn’t be trusted. Not only did she say her family had a history with the Dark Arts, she was cryptic about everything and had secretly flooed onto the grounds of the school.

_Just what is she hiding?_

* * *

After cleaning up her personal quarters and office and unpacking her belongings, Abigail started preparing her classroom for the upcoming year. She was just hanging some new pictures when the door opened. Professor McGonagall was standing there in deep blue robes with silver designs and smiling kindly at her. Returning her smile she strode across the room to hug the older woman.

“Nothing like showing up at the last possible minute, my dear.”

“Oh Minerva, you have no idea.”

“You do look a little worse for wear.” She held Abigail at arm’s length. “Did something happen over the summer?” 

“A family member who’s been on the run for a very long time now was spotted overseas. I spent my entire vacation looking for her without any luck. I’m so sorry I didn’t get a chance to write to you. I didn’t get to write anyone.”

“Oh there’s no need to apologize. I’m just sorry you didn’t find her. May I ask why she’s running?”

“She’s practicing an art that has been banned for a very long time. Our family is the only one that remembers it now. We want to find her before she puts it to use or anyone else finds out about it. It’s the only reason we haven’t involved the authorities. We’ve been keeping this spell a secret for hundreds of years and we don’t trust even them not to use it or be able to keep it under wraps.”

“I can understand that. Our Ministry isn’t exactly the most competent organization and MACUSA’s record isn’t the best either. You’re secret is safe with me.”

“Thank you Minerva. Did you enjoy your summer?”

“Oh yes. I visited my brothers’ families and got to spend time with my nieces and nephews. They’re growing like weeds.”

* * *

Most of the teachers were already seated when Abigail arrived in the Great Hall. She had changed into a form fitting knee length maroon dress with long sleeves and a billowing black cloak. The dress left her leg tattoos visible and she played with her sleeves feeling self conscious. Britain’s wizarding community was so old fashioned. With a deep breath she headed to one of the only seats left. She sat with Filius on her left and Snape on her right. The latter resolutely ignored her.

_What the hell is his problem? I thought we’d made such progress last year._

“Good Evening Abigail! I trust your summer was enjoyable.” Filius smiled at her.

“I wish I could say so, but some rather unfortunate circumstances sent me out of the country shortly after I returned home. I only just returned a few days ago.”

“Oh my! May I ask what happened?”

“A family member of ours that we had a falling out with was seen in the states. I went there to try and find her and convince her to come home, but I failed miserably.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you Filius. How was your summer?”

“It was very enjoyable indeed. I gave a lecture in Rome on dueling and spent the following two weeks touring the sites.”

“That must have been fun. I bet the food was wonderful.”

“It was. I think I must have gained ten pounds!”

“Well it doesn’t look it.” She laughed.

“You’re too kind. I imagine you’re looking forward to an uneventful year of teaching this time around.”

“Fingers crossed.”

Filius’ attention was captured by Professor Sprout then and O’Connor turned to Snape. He was picking imaginary lint off of his spotless sleeve.

“I’m guessing you heard what I said to Filius. I really am sorry I didn’t get to write. I didn’t get to write anyone this summer.” He refused to look at her still and she tried to keep her temper under control. Dropping her voice she leaned closer. “Knowing you you’re probably curious about another one of my _mysteries._ I wouldn’t mind discussing it with you after dinner. I’m hoping maybe you can give me some advice.”

“I do believe I told you last year that any letter you sent would simply be used to light my fireplace. Regardless, I see that the only time you deem it necessary to communicate with me is when I am of some use to you. Lastly I don’t see _why_ you’d believe anything having to do with you or your family would hold any interest for me.”

O’Connor looked gob smacked at his venomous reply. Where the hell had that come from? Had she actually hurt his feelings? She thought he didn’t care if she wrote him. He said he didn’t want friends. _God_ the man was _so_ confusing. Hadn’t she just apologized though; given him a valid reason for her lack of correspondence? She’d even handed him a peace offering by volunteering one of her closely guarded secrets; a way to demonstrate the trust she’d given him last year.

_That bastard!_

“For your information my world does _not_ revolve around _you!_ ” She hissed. “And it’s not like I ignored you or thought you were only worth it if I needed something. I told you I couldn’t write _anyone_ , because I was _hunting down a rogue family member!_ However if I had known how god damn needy you were I might have made the extra effort! Lastly I could have asked anyone for help. I asked _you_ because I value your opinion and knowledge and _because_ you showed an interest last year.”

Snape’s face turned a worrying shade of red and she could see his jaw flex as he clenched his teeth. She was surely in for a fierce verbal battle with volatile potions master, but was saved by the thundering of hundreds of teens making their way to the Great Hall. O’Connor gave him a murderous look and turned away to face the students, feeling as if all the small steps forward from last year had been overtaken by one giant leap backwards.

_I just wanted a calm peaceful year with no problems. I really hope this isn’t a sign of things to come._


	2. Reconciliation?

9/8/1989

Minerva watched Abigail move around the room with agitated jerky movements as she put away the assignments she had been grading and pulled out her tea set, a plate of beignets, and a bottle of Bushmills. She had to suppress a smile at the younger witch’s flustered behaviour. The girl had been out of sorts since the Start of Term Feast and her mood had not improved since. Two diamond shaped rocking tumblers joined everything else on the table and Abigail finally dropped into the other armchair.

“What has you so vexed girl? You’ve been storm cloud all week. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the students clear a corridor for you before now.”

Abigail didn’t reply. Instead she uncorked the whiskey bottle and poured them each a measure of the amber liquid. Minerva swirled her glass lightly and gave her colleague a surreptitious look.

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain potions master would it?” That earned a dark look. “My, my how alike you two are. Fierce tempers, prideful, tight-lipped when irritable; you are two peas in a pod.”

“Too alike I think. Instead of oil and water we’re like sodium and water. We explode violently when together.”

“Yes. Professor Flitwick did say you two exchanged some very heated words at the feast. What happened? You seemed to be getting along so well by the end of last year.”

Abigail sighed heavily and drained her glass in one long sip. Minerva stared.

“Forgive me. I’m a stereotype. I play the violin, I river dance, and I _looove_ my whiskey.” She poured herself another glass. “You might as well dress me in green and call me a leprechaun.”

Minerva laughed.

“Snape is such a confusing man. He pushes everyone away with his wretched behaviour and says he doesn’t need friends. Just looking at the surface he seems like a solitary individual who dislikes people and has no desire for relationships of any kind. However, if you pull out your magnifying glass and then a microscope you can see that isn’t the case.

“He took quite readily to the idea of weekly chess matches with me even if he tried to hide it; and his eyes certainly look brighter when he comes to my office for them. Then there’s the fact that he allowed me to start helping him collect ingredients in the forest again. He seemed almost relieved when I surprised him that night. His shoulders were less tense afterwards anyway.

“Then I told him at the end of term last year that I would like to write him this summer. He looked at me like I had three heads, as if he couldn’t fathom why I would want to do so. In the end he agreed in his own way. Of course it didn’t happen and I think I _may_ have hurt his feelings. I think he might have actually been looking forward to it, even though he probably wouldn’t admit it even to himself.”

Minerva tilted her glass back and forth between her fingers.

“Severus is a complicated man. I can’t pretend to know what he’s thinking sometimes. There’s something there like an invisible wall that just keeps him apart from everyone else. I’m not sure if it’s self imposed or…”

“I probably didn’t help at all in that regard. My temper got the best of me and I called him needy.” Minerva gave her a sorrowful look. “Yes! I’m terrible! When I’m on the defensive I _always_ go for the jugular. Whether I mean it or not I _always_ say the most hurtful thing I can think of.”

The older witch gripped her hand as she tilted her head back.

“I told him I’d appreciate his advice on my summer events, told him why I couldn’t write, and he told me I only bother with him when he’s of use, which is completely untrue. I don’t know how he doesn’t realize that after last year. Then I just blurted out those horrible words! If he really does want friends and I want to try and figure out this wall he’s built I’m never going to get anywhere this way.”

“Well I have a feeling if anyone can do it you can, my dear. You’re going to have to be the one to keep their temper in check though if you’re going to have any hope of getting through.”

“I know, I know.” Abigail sighed and slouched in her chair. “He just makes me so angry and I just snap back so fast.”

“Try some breathing exercises as soon as you feel yourself starting to get angry. Take a deep breath, hold it, and count to ten.”

“I’ll try Minerva. I’ll try. I just wish I knew _why_ he’s so angry and scathing.”

“I don’t know much about the man outside our interactions at Hogwarts. I’m sure the years between graduation and Voldemort’s defeat have a great deal to do with it; but I don’t believe he’s had the easiest life from the get go. His robes were always very second hand looking when he was a student. He didn’t get along with many of the other students either.”

“That could be a part of it. However I feel like there is one big piece of this puzzle that’s missing. I just wish I knew what it was.”

* * *

“You and Abigail seem to be having a rough start to the year.” Albus watched Severus pensively, moving his Rook forward as he did so. The younger wizard replied with a non-committal sound deep in his throat. “You two were getting along so well just three months ago. What happened, my boy? I rather thought you two were becoming friends.”

Severus fixed him with an agitated glared and sighed heavily in exasperation.

“I’m not sure how many times I have to tell you Albus, I have no intention of being her friend. She is a capable colleague and a skilled chess partner. Nothing more.” He moved his Bishop back three spaces to the left.

“Forgive me. It was my mistake.” Eyes twinkling Albus moved his rook sideways. “You were amicable in June. Now you’re acting much the same as you did _last_ September and October. Satisfy an old man’s curiosity. Did she accuse you of being untrustworthy again?”

Anger, irritation, indignation; all fought for dominance in the young man’s gaze. He swiped Albus’ bishop from the board.

“She dared to come here and make such assumptions about my person; to call me untrustworthy for not baring my soul before her when she herself keeps such secrets! To think I foolishly trusted her so readily, especially now that she…”

Severus trailed off, suddenly remembering their first time speaking in her office and how he had kept the secret of her wandless magic to himself, wanting to keep Albus on the outside for once. Had that been a good idea given what he saw in the forest just a few days ago? Her words after their fight with Winters came back to him.

_“I was told some months ago that I should trust my gut instincts because they’ve never steered me wrong before. It’s true. I’ve often reacted without thinking in some situations and it’s always put me right where I need to be, physically and metaphorically.”_

It had started a dialogue in which she told him she was giving him her trust because her instincts _told_ her to. Now _his_ instincts were telling him not to mention what he saw to anyone; to trust her. O’Connor believed in him now despite everything she knew he’d done. So shouldn’t he afford her the same courtesy? Hadn’t she mentioned wanting to tell him what had happened over the summer? She wanted to let him in on another one of her secrets.

_I’ve let my temper get the best of me again. I should have listened to her and just asked her about what I saw._

“What is it, Severus? Did something happen?” Albus moved his Bishop forward. “Did she do something? I wasn’t aware she was keeping any secrets.”

Severus’ concentration on the game was ruined. He was on the defensive now and pulled back his own Bishop. Thoughts of his blunder kept him from coming up with a counter move. The headmaster had no idea what went on in O’Connor’s office so he was unaware of the secrets of which his potions master spoke.

_Dammit…_

“No. She hasn’t done anything. I just don’t like being on the outside looking in.” A pointed glare was sent Albus’ way. “As she said, she has let my secrets lay. I should do the same for her. It’s just her lack of participation in the war. She wouldn’t tell me why she didn’t fight. It’s none of my business really.”

It was the most innocuous of her secrets that he could come up with.

“My, my. Now this is a side of you I’m not used to.” The Headmaster’s Rook moved forward. “You must have gained quite a good deal of respect for Abigail if you’re backing down this way.”

“I’m not _backing down_. I’m simply affording her the same courtesy she has given me.” He pulled in his Rook. If Albus moved his own Rook again he could take the man’s other bishop.

“All the same, if you feel something is wrong let me know. Even _I_ am not infallible. You must tell me if you believe I have made a mistake in my choice of spy. I do not have the same guarantee to her faithfulness that I do with you.”

The bonfire and the Dark Arts books flashed to the forefront of his mind. They were followed by her words at the feast Sunday night. Albus watched him, his blue eyes intent.

“Nothing is wrong Albus.”

“Very well. Know that you can tell me whatever concerns you have. I trust you to bring anything important to my attention.”

Severus bit back a groan when his mentor directed his Bishop to E7. The tall white piece smashed the Black Knight to pieces, leaving him in check mate.

* * *

9/11/1989

O’Connor sat at her desk feeling anxious. She and Snape had decided at the end of last year to move their Monday meetings to the breakfast hour rather than disturb any classes they may have. That meant that she was two hours closer to sucking it up and apologizing to the dour potions master. Minerva was right after all. It wasn’t as if he would do so. So if she wanted things to go back to the way they were she would have to take the hit even though they were both at fault.

The knock on her door startled her so much that she almost sent her tea set and serving tray flying. Hastily steadying the food and drink she sat up straighter and bid her guest to come in. Snape entered carrying his potions bag and a scowl as usual. She swallowed past the lump in her throat as he set the bag on one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace and came to stand before her desk.

_Oh dear. What now?_

“It has come to my attention that I may have acted irrationally at the Welcoming Feast. I am willing to hear what you have to say about your summer if you still wish to tell me.”

His eyes refused to meet her own and she stared at him mouth ajar. Was he trying to apologize?!

_Minerva will never believe me._

“Uh, yes. Of course.” She pushed forward the Jaffa cakes and the pot of Earl Grey. “Before that though, I need to apologize for my harsh words. I never should have called you needy. It was untrue and uncalled for. It’s no excuse, but I was stressed and exhausted and I lashed out. I hope you can forgive me.”

“The incident is already forgotten.”

_He’s so dismissive. Does he even believe me?_

“I have a question or two I would like answered as well, after we have discussed your holiday.”

“Oh. Ok?” Now she was really confused. What could he possibly want to know? The year had just started.

“You said something about a family member on the run if I remember correctly.” He seated himself in front of her desk, gesturing for her to start her story.

O’Connor nodded, suddenly looking solemn, and went to her bookcase. Snape watched her from the corner of his eye as she retrieved something from on high where it was hidden behind decorative molding. Cradling the object in her arms she leaned against the front of the desk to stare at him with eyes that looked over bright. Slowly she slipped the item from her grasp and set it on the desk. She appeared to move in slow motion and sound seemed to reach him from the other end of a long tunnel. The large silver thermos settled on the desk with what sounded like a distant bang reverberating from the other end of that tunnel.

_What’s happening?_

“It’s called Steam.”

Was it getting harder to breathe? He couldn’t tell. His breath seemed overly loud and his heart thundered in his ears. Had he made a mistake? Had he come to the wrong conclusion during his talk with Albus? Perhaps she had seen him in the forest after all and was making sure he never told anyone what he saw. He needed to stop whatever the hell she was doing to him. His fingers grazed his wand and O’Connor reached forward to take his shoulder in a vice-like grip that could rival his own.

“Severus Snape!”

The spell was broken and he drew a long breath through his nose. Green eyes were staring at him with worry and the younger woman looked apologetic. The canister had disappeared and he wondered when she had done that. Had he really been that out of it? Just what the hell _was_ that canister?

“I’m sorry. I should have thought of the affects before doing that. You may be versed with and have been exposed to dark magic, but nothing like this. Good thing too or I might have had to pick you off the floor.”

“Dark magic? I’ve never experienced any dark magic like that before. What the hell kind of _dark magic_ are you playing with?”

“ _I_ haven’t been playing with it. Someone else has. Don’t you remember last year when I told you that my family knew of Dark Arts that were so vial they could change you physically?” Snape looked ready to hex her if she didn’t start explaining faster. “This is knowledge my family has guarded for centuries. We put an end to such practices long ago, but one of our people discovered it and fled. We haven’t seen her in well over two centuries.”

Clarity passed over his face.

“You caught wind of her over the summer.”

“Yes. We couldn’t catch her and her group though and we refuse to let this knowledge fall into anymore hands so we haven’t sought aid from the Ministry or MACUSA. We don’t trust them to keep it secret or to refrain from using it. It needs to stay with us. If word got out I know at least one person who would stop at nothing to acquire it and I fear what he would do to get it.”

“The Dark Lord.”

“Yes.”

“What _is_ it?”

“It’s called Steam. As long as you partake of it you stay youthful and strong. As long as you continue to take Steam you continue to live.”

“A means for him to live forever. Something he’s sought for a very long time.” The “thinking line” as O’Connor referred to it appeared between his brows. “What _is_ Steam exactly?”

A haunted look entered her eyes and he knew what she was going to say wouldn’t be good.

“As witches and wizards we can use magic to move things or read minds. We talk with ghost as if it’s an everyday occurrence and we have all manners of ways to see the future. Muggles on the other hand have none of that. Or do they?” He gave her an annoyed look, urging her to get a move on.

“Some muggles are born with abilities that allow them to do these things _without_ magic. Some are more gifted than others. There are the ones that can make things move. Those who can commune with each other through their minds, even over long distances, and create mindscapes just like Occulemency shields. There are mediums who can talk with the dead and see them just as they see you and I.

“Then there’s that husband who always knows when his wife is in a bad mood and brings home flowers. The dosser who never gets caught by the boss because he always seems to know when he’s coming. They’re the friend who always knows where you left your keys and calls when you’re sad. They know when to swing in cricket, they know which horse is going to win the race, they know when something bad has happened or a relative is going to die.”

“You are talking about psychics. From what I hear it’s not very common.” He gave her a skeptical look.

“More so than you think. For most people it’s nothing quite so grand. Mothers tend to have a bit of Steam. Intuition so to speak I guess. Kids tend to be the most prevalent with the gift. It fades as you get older and your mind gets cluttered with everything else. Some people keep it through adulthood though. They’re usually the mediums that will read your fortune for gifts rather than money and are usually always spot on.”

“So if I’m following you correctly you are saying that this family member and her group travel around looking for people with Steam. They then take that Steam and use it to live forever.”

“I wish it were so simple.” O’Connor swiped a hand over her mouth to hide the tremble of her lips and the crack in her voice. “Steam is strongest in children. And the way they acquire it is by torturing the children until death.”

Snape blanched, he face paling slightly. She couldn’t possibly be serious. The glistening droplets on her eyelashes told him otherwise. He swallowed thickly. Dark Arts that altered your physical body took on a whole new meaning for him now. Just how far did these magics go? He had always been fascinated by the Dark Arts and probably always would be, but this was madness. Just what kind of people was her family and who did they associate with?

“You can relax. I know what you’re thinking and I already told you we don’t practice it. We just have a history with it.” She sighed heavily and carefully pulled the thermos from where she had tucked it into her robes.

“Just what kind of history?” Snape’s dark eyes glared suspiciously at her.

“Think of it like Scotland. Here they have clans made up of different families. It’s kind of like that. My clan fought with another clan that practiced these Dark Arts. They weren’t _bad_ people per se but _this_ was something we couldn’t allow to continue. So we stopped it and locked away the knowledge.”

“I will again state that you speak as if your _people_ are a separate entity from the rest of wizarding society. Why wasn’t the Ministry involved?”

“A story for another day.”

“And you said you trusted me.” He mocked. O’Connor’s green eyes darkened and she leaned down so she could stare into his eyes.

“There are many different kinds of trust Severus Snape. I _trust_ that you’re on our side of the war and showed you one of the things You-Know-Who wants most. I trust that you’re the kind of person who can keep this a secret because no one should have this; because it’s just plain evil. If you want more than that you have to show me that I can trust you with more. You’ll understand what that means in time.”

Snape glared at her wondering what she meant, but O’Connor seemed done with the conversation. She set the thermos back on her desk.

“I need to come up with a way to track either them or large amounts of Steam. They seem to keep extra on hand in these containers. It’s probably a way to revitalize them in the event that they can’t find their next source for awhile. We found this at a campground. Brace yourself and don’t breathe it in.”

Snape looked surprised and wary as he pushed his chair back from the desk. O’Connor twisted the lid of the thermos and it snapped open. For a moment nothing happened and then a small sliver of silvery-white mist escaped the container carrying with it the faintest sound of screams. The same strange feeling as before washed over him but he was able to push it away this time. O’Connor directed the haze back into the container and closed it with a snap.

“Do you think we can do it? Track them or the Steam?”

Snape leaned back in his chair, tracing his bottom lip with one long finger. His brows drew together as he stared at the thermos.

“It should be possible to modify a tracking spell to lock onto a specific type of magical signature or type of energy.”

“Not a magical signature. I forgot to mention. She does have some type of black magic but she’s not a full on witch. None of them are. They’re all just psychics, powerful ones. Even we should take care in dealing with them.”

“They same theory applies. Everyone has their own specific type of energy. Our bodies generate it every day just from the simple intake of food. If we can identify theirs we should be able to track it. The Steam would be more difficult. It seems to be raw energy and the essence of the person it came from. We would need to find a way to lock on to just the type of energy it is rather than who’s; like finding a human’s signature versus an animal’s.”

“Will you help me do it?”

“I must admit you have peaked my interest. I will help on one condition.”

O’Connor’s eyes darkened again and she eyed him warily.

“The questions you wanted answered when you walked in here.”

“Yes. What did you do to that tree in the forest last Sunday and what was that bonfire?”

For a moment everything was quiet and still. O’Connor had frozen and was staring at him with open shock. Then a tension began to fill the air like a thick fog and Snape realized he’d made a mistake. Her eyes were darkening and filling with a predatory gleam. She leaned forward towards him and he leaned back until he could go no further. They were almost nose-to-nose with her practically in his lap, her hands on the arms of the chair.

“What did you see?”

“Everything.” He met her gaze unflinchingly despite the sweat gathering along his collar. She breathed deeply through her nose, trying to contain her anger. Behind her the plants in the window began to wilt. His eyes widened and she whipped around to see what he was staring at. When she saw them she released his chair as if burned. “Don’t practice them, do you?”

“No. We _don’t_.” She hissed acidly, turning away from him. “This is a _burden_ I must bear. As for the fire it’s a special mode of transport. Prove to me I can trust you with more and I’ll tell you more. Now get the _fuck_ out of my office.”

He knew better than to argue and left the room in silence, an unbidden and unwanted realization coming to him. She reacted the same exact way he did when someone got too close to something too personal. He wandered what made this secret different from all the others though, and what she meant by “a burden she must bear”. What power was it that made her able to kill off plants in such a manner? She seemed almost unable to control it in her anger. Perhaps that was what she meant by burden.

_Whatever she meant, whatever this is, I’ll just have to find out._


	3. Halloween Hooplah!

10/28/1989

O’Connor remained frosty towards Snape for almost two months after their discussion on Steam. Surprisingly, he did not think it was him that she was angry with. He wasn’t sure what it was about her strange abilities and the bon fire that was so different; but she was clearly very upset that he had seen those things. So he had left her to stew in peace. There was no point is grilling her for more information lest he wanted to start a fight. With their similar tempers it was best to just let it go.

Come the weekend before Halloween she seemed to be in better spirits. Her face looked less like a storm cloud and her eyes weren’t so hostile. Whatever problem she had with him seeing her in the forest seemed to have worked itself out and she was back to her usual self. She’d even decorated her classroom for the holiday and was offering house points and candy for the best costume of each year; done without magic of course and school appropriate. Votes would be cast throughout the day of the Halloween Feast and the winners would be announced that night.

Friday and Saturday saw a slew of costumes from both the wizarding and muggle world. There were werewolves, gorgons, ghouls, clowns, pirates, super heroes, Weird Sisters, and Sanderson Sisters. O’Connor had apparently let her classes off the hook that week and let them watch Halloween movies and it had prompted a number of costumes that were never seen or heard of for many in the castle. Regardless they were impressive enough that they garnered votes anyway. Snape had to admit he’d never seen the castle so lively and excited about Halloween before.

Somehow the woman had even gotten the teachers involved. Whichever one of them came up with the most creative costume earned themselves a bottle of their favorite drink and a gift card to the store of their choice. He had been surprised to see Madam Hooch dressed like a cow and wearing a halo; Professor McGonagall dressed as a cat with a mask and a bag labeled valuables; and Professor Sprout sporting a crown and yellow and black striped robes. Dumbledore’s participation was unsurprising. He was dressed as a mouse with blacked out glasses and a cane. Flitwick was dressed as a red and white striped toad with a Honeydukes label for a belt.

“I can’t say I didn’t hope my prizes would tempt you to join us.” O’Connor seated herself beside Snape for lunch. She wasn’t including herself in the running for a prize but she had still dressed up. Like Dumbledore she was a mouse, but she was blue with icicles hanging from various places. Her belt also looked like a Honeyduke’s label.

“Did you really expect me to participate in such pointless frivolities?”

“No, but a girl can hope.” She selected a chicken BLT from the sandwich platter before her and a scoop of crisps from the bowl. “And it’s not pointless. Everyone is having fun. That _is_ the point.”

He rolled his eyes and took a sip from his goblet. They were silent for awhile as they ate, their thoughts occupied. Then…

“Snape, I want to apologize for my attitude. I…”

“There is no need. I cannot say I have not done the same when people pry into my private life. I _am_ still curious, but I will wait until such a time as when you are ready to tell me.”

She looked surprised for a moment then smiled down at her lunch.

“Thank you.”

* * *

_Camilla Whitehall was at it again today. She and her stupid flunkies wouldn’t stop teasing me about my robes and my acne. I had another bad flare up this morning and of course it’s the day of the costume contest. So instead of looking like Winifred Sanderson I looked like the Wicked Witch of the West. Bette Midler has never been done so little justice._ _L I tried just ignoring their insults like the teachers tell me but they just wouldn’t let up. They kept telling me someone should drop a house on me and that Aurelio would never look twice at me. So I ran away. They chased me, but I eventually lost them on the fourth floor and hid in one of the old classrooms. That’s where I found it!_

_Sitting on one of the shelves of an old bookcase was a small jewelry box. There were these really elegant and curved ruins on top. Inside was the prettiest bangle I’ve ever seen! It’s gold and decorated with rubies and sapphires with curved etchings in the band. I’ve never seen anything like it! I’m going to wear it to the feast tonight. My robes may be second hand but I bet Camilla has never had a piece of jewelry as pretty as this!_

* * *

Abigail was practically bouncing as the students finished their dinner and Dumbledore motioned for her to start announcing the winners. Several students laughed as he pretended to have difficulty finding his seat and sat in McGonagall’s lap. She rolled her eyes and shoved him towards his own seat with a small smile.

“First off I want to thank all of you for your participation in the contest. I’ve never seen so many wonderful costumes in one place. You all did a great job making them as well. I’m so proud of you.” She smiled widely and held up her cards. “Now for our winners. For the First Years our winner is from Gryffindor. Will Maggie Clark please come forward?”

There was burst of girlish squeals and cheers from the table as a young girl stood up and made her way to the front of the hall. Her costume was quite impressive. Her long hair had been twisted and pinned up in coils and decorated to look like very realistic snakes. She was done up to look more snake-like herself and dress in a Greek gown. Abigail smiled and hugged her; handing the girl a basket of Honeyduke’s Candy.

“That’s twenty-five points to Gryffindor. Congratulations Maggie. How did you make your hair look so realistic?”

“Thank you, Professor. One of my friends painted a pair of nylons and then we pulled them over each twist.”

“It looks great! Good job!”

She gave the girl one last hug and sent her on her way.

“Next we have the Second Years. Will Jonathan Adley of Slytherin please come forward?”

A chorus of whoops rose from the table and several people stomped their feet. A young man dressed in all black stood up holding a sign saying lost dog and when he started heading for the front of the hall laughter broke out behind him. As he joined Abigail it was apparent why. A stuffed white dog had been glued to his backside, of which had been stuffed until it was quite large. Minerva covered her mouth to smother her laughter while Filius laughed freely. Several teachers praised his creativity.

“Twenty-five points to Slytherin!” Another hug, another basket of candy. “This was very clever.”

“Thank you, Professor. I saw it in a comic strip over the summer.” The boy spoke quietly and shyly. He seemed nervous to meet her eyes. She had a feeling why. There were some in Slytherin house who wanted nothing to do with her contest because of the subject she taught. Hopefully they weren’t being too nasty with the rest of their house members.

_At least I seem to be getting through to some of them, if not all._

The third and fourth year prizes went to Hufflepuff for a very realistic looking pirate and an impressive interpretation of a Sphinx. The fifth year prize was really quite impressive and went to Camilla Whitehall of Ravenclaw. She was dressed as the Queen of Hearts and being gifted at sewing and such things had made a very elegant gown and realistic crown. Her collar was made up of large playing cards, all of the heart suit of course. One of her friends had helped her with her make-up and made her look like she came right off the set of a play.

Sixth year was given to Gryffindor for a realistic Ebenezer Scrooge. He had called in a favor from his grandfather for an old maroon robe and had made little figurines of each of the ghosts to sit on his shoulders. When he came up to get his prize he gave a remarkably frightening moan and rattled the chains draped over his shoulders. The hall cheered loudly at his demonstration. None of the costumes however were quite as striking as the seventh year winner.

Connor Davenport of Slytherin, one of the few in his house who truly enjoyed Abigail’s class, had dressed as one of the characters from a horror movie they had watched during the week. IT was a favorite of hers and she thought it would be fun to show to her older students. Now she was regretting it. The boy had enlisted quite a bit of help from his classmates and looked like he had been pulled from the projector screen; red balloon and all.

The boy walked slowly to the stage giving a perfect impression of the character from the movie as he stared around at his classmates. Several Ravenclaw girls screamed as he jerked their way and bent down to be at their level. His laugh was exactly the same as Pennywise. He was even capable of moving his eyes in two different directions. The girls squealed as he did so. Several people laughed as he jumped away and danced his way up front.

“Aaaagh!”

O’Connor startled violently and gave a quiet shriek at the unexpected snarl and sharp prosthetic teeth he’d placed in his mouth. Several of the teachers joined the students as they laughed at her expense and she buried her face in her hands in embarrassment. Connor stalked around her and she cringed away as he offered her the balloon; his lips pursed in a small o and one of his eyes wandering off to the side. The boy was downright terrifying.

“I believe you have some candy and points for me Professor.” He giggled.

“Take them! Twenty-five points to Slytherin! Take the basket!” She laughed. He gave her a regular smile and a one armed hug before returning to his table. More screams and squeals followed him the entire way.

“Now for the winner of the teacher’s costume contest. This was _very_ close but the winner is Professor Levitsky for his impression of “A Bump in the Night!”

The new Alchemy teacher stood; an embarrassed smile on his pale youthful face. He was dressed in a wig of long black hair, a black dress with stars and a moon on it, and a pillow stuffed down the front of the garment. The Great Hall erupted in a chorus of cheers and laughter as he moved around the table with a believable pregnancy waddle, one of his hands pressed against his lower back and the other supporting the “bump”.

His fellow teachers clapped and laughed with the students. Dumbledore, Filius, and Hagrid were particularly in tears. Minerva and Pomona were giggling with their heads together. Snape rolled his eyes, but O’Connor could see the upward twitch of a smirk on his lips. The man had to turn his head all together in the next moment though to hide a full on smile.

Nikolai had held out his hand to accept Abigail’s congratulations and the blue pillow dropped out the bottom of his dress. He shared a shocked expression with her and then held up his arms with a goofy smile.

“It’s a boy!!”

The hall was immersed in a tide of uproarious laughter.

* * *

_Ugh! I can’t believe it! Camilla won the fifth years costume contest! Pretty Camilla! Rich Camilla! Perfect Camilla! She just can’t go wrong can she!? I worked so hard on my costume! Just once can’t I do something better than her? She gets better grades, better clothes, better skin! I’ll never hope to get Aurelio’s attention with her around. I wish she’d just disappear!!_

* * *

Abigail was awoken early the next morning by two flashes of fire bursting over her bed. She jolted into a sitting position expecting her duvet to be on fire and instead found two slips of parchment innocently resting on the comforter. Beside her Nikolai propped himself up on his elbows, still half asleep, and mumbled something unintelligible. She grinned at his sleepy-eyed look and the way his chestnut hair fell into his face. It was entirely too kissable. She could imagine what their colleagues would say if they knew.

She wouldn’t call herself a floozy nor was she particularly promiscuous, but she was a woman; a woman in her sexual prime no less. She didn’t know how her fellow teachers managed ten months out of the year at the school. Then again most of them were well past that point in their lives. Her mind strayed to Snape. How did _he_ manage? He was only two years older than her and a _guy_.

Abigail wasn’t one for relationships but she wasn’t the type to go out and pick up groups of men either. She had the now and then one night stand but usually stuck to short casual flings. Her independence was important to her. She liked to be able to pick up and go at a moment’s notice. She liked being able to have her house her way, do what she wanted to do, spend what she wanted to spend, and go where she wanted to go. There wasn’t anyone she had to confer with beforehand. It was pure, unadulterated freedom.

_“What an interesting combination… This double line indicates that you live a double life and that you will find your soul mate! How strange! You’re heart line shows you have little interest in romance.”_

“Crazy coot. Has no idea what she’s talking about.”

“Whazzat?”

“Nothing Nikolai. Just remembering something someone said to me.” She reached forward to pick up the papers as he started kissing his way up her side. A moment later she was fighting to get out of her tangle of covers as fast as she could. Nikolai looked bewildered.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

She flung her arm out to hand him the two papers, one addressed to him and one to her.

“Dumbledore has called an emergency staff meeting. Camilla Whitehall was found in a coma this morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah! You didn't think I was going to make their relationship all quick like now did you? Have patience! They have some things to sort through before it happens. They'll get there. Eventually.


	4. Do I Look Like I Can Be Bought?

10/29/1989

Most of the teachers were all ready assembled when Abigail and Nikolai joined them in the staffroom. The Headmaster and Filius were the last to join them, the latter looking particularly upset. Once they were seated and everyone settled Dumbledore gave the tiny Charms teacher the floor.

“We’re not sure exactly what has happened to Miss Whitehall. Her friends state that when they went to bed last night there was nothing to indicate she was unwell. When she failed to get out of bed at her usual time they went to check on her and found that they could not wake her up.” He paused to dab at his eyes. “Madam Pomfrey is unable to find what is causing the coma, but something is wearing on the poor girl. It’s like her very life is being slowly drained out of her.”

A chorus of distraught mutterings filtered through the room.

“Poppy has found nothing in her system that may be causing her lack of consciousness?” Snape asked. “Has she detected any spells?”

“No. Neither of us has.”

“I would like to take a look if I may.”

“Of course Severus. We’ll take any help we can get. If we can’t figure this out by the end of the day, Poppy has recommended we send the girl to St. Mungo’s.”

“I will head to the infirmary immediately then.” Snape swept out of the room in a whirl of black fabric.

Dumbledore turned to the rest of his staff to instruct them to keep a close eye on the students in case the event was not an isolated incident. Should any student exhibit strange behaviour, escort them to Madam Pomfrey immediately. If they should overhear anything about kids experimenting with potions or odd spells then they need to escort them to Madam Pomfrey immediately.

When they were finally released from the meeting O’Connor made her way to the Infirmary to see if Snape had found anything. If not, perhaps she could detect something. It wasn’t likely that what was affecting the girl had anything to do with _their_ arts, but it never hurt to check. The potions master was bent over the girl when she arrived, his wand moving in slow lazy patterns above her bed.

“Have you found anything?”

“No. As Madam Pomfrey said there is no foreign substance in her system so it is not a potion. I cannot find any trace of the Dark Arts or any other kind of spell. Something is clearly draining her, but I can’t find what’s causing it.”

He frowned heavily, muttering under his breath, as his wand continued its languid sway through the air. O’Connor scanned the young teen. There didn’t seem to be any trace of _their_ black magic, but there was something there. It was a strange feeling and she didn’t know if she’d be able to put it into words. Snape glanced at her from the corner of his eyes.

“Could this have anything to do with you relative? Could she have followed you here?”

O’Connor shook her head and dropped her voice.

“No. I don’t think Camilla has anything she’d want. Besides, I all ready told you how’d she get it. Does this look like that’s the case?”

“Are you sure that’s the only way?”

“Positive.”

“Do you have any theories?”

“No, but if I had to hazard a guess, I would say something is feeding off of her.” Snape nodded in agreement and straightened up.

“I think it would be best if we searched her quarters and question her friends to see if she’s come into contact with something that may have caused this.”

“Let’s do it.”

There was nothing out of the ordinary in the girl’s dormitory and her dorm mates, whom she apparently shared everything with, said Camilla had neither found nor received any strange items. With nothing to go on or any idea how to reverse what had happened, Poppy had the girl admitted to St. Mungo’s. A letter received just a few days later said they were just as stumped.

* * *

Almost two weeks later Abigail found herself in the staffroom for an entirely different matter. Alistair Richby, the boy who had terrified her to almost literal death with a spider, was causing problems again. He seemed to take poorly to not getting his way and was fighting with his fellow second years. After the incident last year in which he had loosed several of his House member’s pets into the forest, none of them seemed to want much to do with him. They flat out refused to let him join in any study groups or games.

“So when the girls refused to let him join in their game of Exploding Snap he cut one of their pigtails off!”

Filius sounded exasperated and exhausted.

“It took me hours to calm her down. Thankfully Septima has some experience in cutting hair and was able to salvage it. I also think your suggestion of donating the hair to that muggle cancer center for children helped cheer her up a great deal Abigail. I thank you both.”

“What are we going to do?” Minerva finally said. “The boy doesn’t seem capable of making rational decisions when he’s upset and he has very few socially acceptable behaviors. He wanted to try reverse Transfiguration on a mouse yesterday.”

“It’s obvious the boy has some disability that is holding him back. I would recommend having his parents send him for an evaluation at St. Mungo’s and if that doesn’t turn up much, a muggle doctor.” Abigail suggested.

“I think that may be for the best.” Albus said. “I will have Poppy send a message to his parents first thing in the morning. In the meantime I will have a conversation with the boy about his behavior.”

Abigail sat back in her seat feeling skeptical. She was quite sure the boy had an undiagnosed disability. Lashing out in anger, lack of empathy for animals, and a strange fascination for the macabre; she was sure she had heard of something like this before, but she couldn’t think of where. Perhaps she should do some research. Books and media.

“Do you intend to stay in here by yourself?”

Startled she looked up at Nikolai. The room was empty. She hadn’t realized she’d zoned out that much.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about Richby’s behaviour.” She pushed in her chair and followed him out of the room.

“If he doesn’t show some improvement the Headmaster is going to have to expel him. First he releases his classmate’s pets into the wild and now he’s chopping off hair. Who knows what it could accelerate to?”

“Hopefully a counselor can do something for him.”

Nikolai nodded in agreement, his short brown hair falling into his face. She fought the urge to brush it back.

“Are you ready for the first Quidditch match tomorrow?”

“I am. It’s been some time since I’ve seen a game.”

“Who are you cheering for?”

“I don’t know. I’ll probably flip a coin before I leave my quarters in the morning.”

“Perhaps you could flip the coin before you left _mine_?” His nose grazed her hair, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. She shivered as his breath ghosted over her neck and quickly looked up and down the corridors.

“Are you trying to get us caught?”

“It’s dinner time. Everyone should be in the Great Hall and we were the last to leave the staffroom.” He let his fingers graze over her bicep and she looked up to see his blue eyes were dilated.

“Well we can’t both be missing from dinner.” She smacked his hand. He was hard enough to resist without the touching. His eyes crinkled with a smirk and he shoved her into an alcove behind a suit of armor. She gasped as his lips trailed over her neck and he pinned her with his hips.

“How about I go to dinner, and you be waiting for me in my quarters when I get back?” His teeth grazed the sensitive skin at the base of her neck and she groaned. “I picked something nice for you to wear.”

“Fine. Fine. Just… go before I do something stupid.”

He grinned like a cat with a canary as he watched her hurry down the stairs.

* * *

O’Connor walked towards the Quidditch pitch the next morning feeling sated and pleasantly sore. It really was lucky that Nikolai was hired on as the new Alchemy teacher. She could get used to covert sexcapades. It really heightened the mood.

_I feel like I’m some sort of secret agent on an exciting mission. Oh wait. I am._

She giggled inwardly at her dumb little joke and nearly jumped out of her skin when a deep velvety voice spoke from behind her.

“Are you wearing that to get back in my good graces?”

She stared wide-eyed at Snape for a minute, her mind going all sorts of dirty places with that statement.

_Woah girl! Calm the post sex glow!_

“If you must know I’m wearing Slytherin colors because they won the coin toss.” She threw her scarf around her neck and it looped once before the end smacked her in the face. “Why would I need back in your good graces? What did I… Oh. Oh no. Our chess match was last night. I’m so sorry. We can play today! Right after the game! I’ll even make those breakfast Sarnies you seem to like.”

_The price of lust. Memory loss. Dammit!_

“Do I look like I can be bought?”

“No, but maybe just this one time?”

He rolled his eyes looking highly annoyed. There was silence for a moment, then…

“I imagine there will be Bakewells.”

A smile split her face and she beamed at him, hooking her elbow with his. She ignored his frown as she pulled him towards the pitch.

“Oh yes. All you can eat.”

They seated themselves in the teacher’s box behind Filius and Pomona. The latter was wearing a green hat and a red and gold scarf. Unless Hufflepuff was playing the woman always cheered for whoever was down on points. Filius was wearing a red hat with lions dancing around it. Ravenclaw had lost the Quidditch Cup to Slytherin last year and he was still a little sore about it.

It didn’t take long for the stands to fill up and soon Madam Hooch was striding onto the field to stand between the teams. She released the Snitch and Bludgers and ordered a clean fair game. The players mounted their brooms and waited anxiously as the hawk-eyed woman readied the Quaffle. With a piercing whistle she sent the ball soaring into the air. Fourteen brooms ascended rapidly, closely followed by their referee, and the game was on.

O’Connor didn’t dislike riding a broom but the fact that a stick of wood was the only thing keeping you in the air never sat well with her. Knowing that there was nothing but open space to the sides and below always left her feeling slightly queasy. Regardless of any protections or safety measures the thought of falling through the air was horrifying to her. She couldn’t even stand balconies with gapped railings and getting to her seat in the Quidditch stands required clinging to whichever teacher went with her.

Despite that she loved watching others play and had been a back-up Keeper in her fifth year. She had been talked into it by the team captain because of her good hand eye coordination. They’d even managed to win their game against Gryffindor because although they caught the Snitch, they didn’t have enough points to win the game. Hufflepuff had won 200-190. It was her one and only victory in Quidditch and she was extremely proud of it.

A chorus of shouts rang out around her and a hand shoved her head down as the Slytherin Seeker soared low over their heads. Snape’s black eyes glittered inches from her face and he looked irritable.

“I don’t know where you’re head is at but you better pay attention before you lose it.” He snapped.

“Sorry!”

A gold flash shot down in front of their box and robes of green and red soared after it. The two boys were neck-and-neck until the Snitch veered off just before the ground and disappeared as they pulled up to avoid a collision with the ground. Gryffindor scored another goal and then one of their players was sent spiraling off course as a Bludger was sent their way.

Connor Davenport grinned at his Beater and caught the Quaffle that Cassandra Wright had dropped. He took off towards the Gryffindor goalpost like a shot, making tight loops to avoid the opposing players. Several people gasped as he was caught off guard by a mad dive from the rival Seeker. He pulled up hard and looped back around to score through the right hoop, the Keeper just a second too slow. The stunt had taken her by surprise as well and broke her concentration.

“Slytherin leads Gryffindor 60-40 and we’ve yet to see the Snitch again.” Caroline Edwards called out. “It’s still anyone’s game! Let’s just hope no one makes anymore move’s to distract their own teammates as well as their opponents!”

“There!” Someone shouted.

It took everyone a moment to figure out what the commotion was about. The Seekers were about a hundred feet above the stands and heading for the ground fast, a little glint of gold fluttering ahead of them. O’Conner covered her face unable to watch. Beside her she felt Snape lean forward in anticipation. Moments later there were several screams and then the roar of cheers as one of the Seekers obviously caught the Snitch. Judging from the clapping at her side it was Slytherin.

Terrence Higgs soared around the stands shaking the little gold ball and egging on the cheers. Behind him Charlie Weasley shook his head and drifted towards the ground looking sullen. He had played admirably but his heart hadn’t seemed to be in it that day. She wondered if it had anything to do with Camilla. The two had seemed rather close.

“Now then, I do believe you owe me brunch.” Snape said. O’Connor grinned cheekily and clung closely to his side during their dizzying descent.

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”


	5. Potions Masters are Like Onions

11/20/1989

Snape was in a foul mood. His attempts at making O’Connor’s tracking spell were not going as he had planned. Avenseguim could be used to return the canister to its owner but they didn’t know exactly _where_ in the States the group was. If they lost sight of the thermos they would right be back where they started. Modifying Avenseguim to work more like the Four-Point spell was proving to be difficult since he had so little of the group’s signature to work with. The same went for the Steam as well. Especially since he was trying to track the type of energy rather than the person it came from.

_Perhaps O’Connor will have something else they may have come into contact with. She never did say how they caught wind of them this summer. It’s not like missing children are uncommon. They must have a way they’re finding them._

Snape stopped outside O’Connor’s door and rapped his knuckles lightly on the wood. He waited a moment, but there was no call to enter. His eyebrows drew down. She may have forgotten about their chess match, for reasons he didn’t care to ask about, but it would be extremely out of character for her to forget about their Monday morning meetings. He turned the doorknob.

_Praesidium_

There was no pushback telling him she wasn’t inside and he opened the door. The office was quiet and empty. It looked like she hadn’t even been in it. There were no assignments on the desk and her tea set and cloche were missing. She always had them out and waiting. It was like an obsession for her to offer her guests food and drink. He shoved down the small sense of apprehension at the strange behaviour and crossed to her bedroom door.

“O’Connor?”

His knuckles had barely grazed the wood when he heard a small whimpering groan issue from somewhere around her desk. He froze, not sure he’d actually heard the sound, and then moved towards it. O’Connor was huddled half under her desk and curled in the fetal position. She was pale and sweating and hadn’t even gotten out of her pajamas yet; flannel pants, a tank top, and a silk robe. A jolt went through him and he quickly knelt at her side.

“What happened O’Connor? Are you injured?”

She shook her head, curling in on herself even more.

“Are you sick? You have to tell me what’s wrong or I can’t help you.” He squeezed her shoulder and tried to get her to look at him.

“You can’t help.” She groaned. “I ran out of my grandmother’s potion.”

“What potion?”

“I have endometriosis. She makes me something to curb it when it’s bad. I forgot to tell her I was out.” A grin suddenly split her face despite the pain and she gave him a cheeky look. “Do you know what that even is?”

“Yes I know.” He snapped. “You based our ruse off a potion you actually need.”

She nodded and groaned again.

“What does the potion do?”

“It’s a pain reliever and it minimizes the lesions. I’ve never had anything better.”

“I will try to replicate it until she can send you more.” Snape moved carefully, slipping his arms under her and gingerly lifting her from the floor. She was dead weight, unable to unfurl herself, and it made it slightly awkward to carry her. He settled O’Connor carefully on her bed and reached into one of his inner pockets.

“How did you end up under your desk?”

She accepted the vial he handed her, the scent telling her it was a pain reliever.

“It didn’t seem like it was going to be bad at first. _Sometimes_ I get a reprieve. Then the pain started to hit. I thought if I sat for a minute it might pass, stupidity on my part.” She handed him back the empty vial. “Do you have a little bit of everything in that cloak?”

“I’m a Head of House and the Potions Master. I make sure I have whatever my students may ask for.”

O’Connor nodded, grimaced, and curled up.

“It should take affect soon. I shall inform the Headmaster that your classes will need to be cancelled for the day.” He got her a glass of water and called one of the House Elves to keep an eye on her. “I will return with the potion as soon as I am able. If you need any more pain reliever just have Coco come and let me know. Is there anything else you may need?”

“I should be good for now. Can you just help me out of my robe and under the covers?”

He nodded stiffly and once she was covered she smiled gratefully. Her color had returned somewhat in the last few moments.

“Thank you, Snape. I really appreciate it.” He nodded awkwardly, looking somewhat unsure of himself. Then he nodded again and swept from the room. O’Connor grinned and snuggled deeper into her blankets.

“He really has a hard time showing people his nice side, doesn’t he?”

Coco gave a small smile.

“Professor Snape is like an onion, miss.”

“An onion?” She stared at the little elf looking surprised.

“Yes. Coco is knowing Professor Snape since he was a student. Professor Snape is not having a good life miss. He is building up layers to protect hisself.”

“I see.” Abigail massaged her lower abdomen as she thought. “And if I were to try and peel back the layers to see what lay beneath; what might I find?”

“Coco is not knowing anymore, but Coco is hoping you is able to. Most people doesn’t try. Professor Snape is too good at keeping people at a distance.”

“Do you know why he does it?”

“When a wizard does not often receive kindness miss, they is finding it hard to trust when they do. Coco is thinking Professor Snape is angry and sad and lonely. He is burying that very deep though. Layers, miss.”

“Well Coco, I think I want to see what’s beneath those layers.” Abigail buried her face in her pillow feeling drowsy.

“Coco is wishing you luck miss.”

“How do you know so much about Snape, Coco? You guys don’t usually talk to the students very often, do you?”

“Coco is telling you enough for now. Professor Snape, sir, would not want me talking of his past too much.”

She smiled at the elf. The small creature was very matronly and apparently very loyal to the dour potions master.

_Perhaps I’ll get to hear the story behind all this someday._

* * *

_I swear Professor Flitwick has it out for me. It seems like no matter how hard I try I just score anything better than a Poor on my homework. Jane even helped me and I still couldn’t scrape a passing grade this morning. Then, he wouldn’t pick me for soprano this afternoon at chorus tryouts. I practiced all summer and I know I can hit the notes. Even with Camilla in St. Mungo’s I still can’t win. Flitwick’s just holding a grudge because of last year when I accidentally set my desk on fire and nearly burned down the classroom._

_I hate Charms. Why can’t it be more like Transfiguration? You don’t need any fancy wand movements or frilly words for that. Potions and Herbology are even better. Who cares about magical theory and all that nonsense? If I can say the words and flick my wand why do I need to worry about the “theory” behind it? I wish I could drop Charms now instead of at the end of the year! I don’t even need it to open my own Apothecary._

* * *

11/24/1989

It was nearly seven by the time Justin Thornhill and Mark Thomas finished cleaning and reorganizing the shelves in the Charms classroom. The two Gryffindor boys had been tugging the braids of the girls in front of them. It was innocent teasing of boys too shy to speak to the girls they like, but Filius did not tolerate such things; if they wanted a girl’s attention that was not the way to go about it. He had given them a stern lecture on such things then set them to their tasks. 

“Now, I hope you boys will find a much more appropriate way to speak to Miss Cruz and Miss Rosewater in the future.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“It’s not me that you need to apologize to. Now, off to the dorms with you.”

They scurried off in a hurry, eager to get back to their friends. Filius sighed with a small smile and shook his head. Teenagers. He had a feeling this year was going to be a bad year for hormonal teenagers. He’d already caught three couples snogging in the corridors between classes and they were still a little over two months away from Valentine’s Day. Eager to get back to his own quarters, he headed for his desk to put away his paperwork. I nice snifter of brandy and a good book sounded wonderful right about now.

Halfway to his desk a woman’s sultry chuckle drifted through the room. Filius turned on the spot, the fine hairs on his neck and arms standing on end. Something about that laugh had seemed sinister. The flames in the sconces around his room brightened as he raised his wand. There was no one in the doorway and as far as he could tell no one in the room. Was someone playing a joke on him?

The laugh came again, deeper, darker, and just as sultry as before.

“Is someone playing tricks?” No one answered.

“Homenum Revelio.”

He was the only one in the room.

“Peeves I’m not in the mood. If you don’t reveal yourself at once I’ll go straight to the Blood Baron; same for anyone else. I’m too tired for games tonight.”

The laugh came again, higher this time and sounding fairly amused. It seemed to come from all corners of the room and he couldn’t pinpoint the source. A chill ghosted down his spine just as one of the bookcases shuddered. He barely had time to move as the one to his left tipped forward. With a strangled squeak he rolled out of the way. The large piece of furniture thundered to the ground with enough force to shake the floor and rattle the items on his desk.

“What the devil is going on here?!”

He had no time to ponder his circumstances. The case to his right vibrated violently before pitching forward. With another strangled yell he did the only thing he could. He rolled left and hoped the space between the two bookcases was large enough. The bang was even louder than the first and sent up a cloud of dust from the stone floors. Filius lay still as the dust settled and the deep sultry laugh echoed away into dark. His sconces had gone out, snuffed by the cloud of dust.

“Filius! Filius what’s happened?! Are you all right?!” Minerva’s terrified voice filtered into the classroom as she approached. The new Defense teacher Michael Farrow followed close behind her. 

“ Filius are you in here? Are you hurt?” He called out.

“I’m here.”

The torches flared to life and they entered the room.

“Filius where are you?”

“Between the shelves.” He sat up, his hair and robes covered in a fine layer of stone dust.

“Oh my god!” They hurried over, Michael helping him from the floor. “What happened?”

Minerva was very white in the face.

“I’m unhurt. Just startled.” He reassured them. “I’m not sure what happened Minerva, but I feel we may have an unknown ghost or Poltergeist in the castle.”

“What do you mean?” Michael asked.

“There was a woman’s laugh. I tried revealing who was in the room but I was the only person here. I tell you though, there _was_ a woman laughing. It was very deep and quite dark sounding. I heard it again after the cases fell.”

“I will have Albus speak to the other ghosts at once and see if they know anything about it.” Minerva said. “The students could be in danger if it’s this bold.”

“Do you think it could be responsible for Miss Whitehall?”

“I’ve never heard of a ghost or poltergeist that could do such a thing, but we cannot rule out the possibility at this point.” Michael said. He waved his wand and righted the shelves and their belongings. “I’ll begin researching at once.”

“We must be discreet about this until we know more. We don’t want the students panicking.” Minerva cautioned. The two wizards nodded.

“Agreed.”


	6. Music Soothes the Soul

11/?/1989 

_I should have known I wouldn’t get any peace even with Camilla not being in school. Her faithful sidekick Samara “accidentally” bumped into me at breakfast today while I tried talking to Aurelio. He was even smiling at me. Then she had to shove me and I spilled pumpkin juice all over my clothes and the table. Three people had their homework ruined and they glared at me for the rest of the day like it was_ my _fault. I don’t understand why she has to be so mean to me. I never did anything to her! I wish she’d just leave me alone!_

* * *

12/3/1989

The man was incorrigible. Abigail watched Nikolai lazily from where she lounged on the bed. His blue eyes were heated as they gazed out from beneath the most luxurious eyebrows she’d ever seen on a man; thick and dark they suited his face with its long thin nose and pointed chin. He smiled cheekily from the chair he was seated in and slid down, spreading his knees to give her a view, and crooked his finger. She grinned and shook her head.

“I’m meeting with Snape in a little while. You’ll just have to wait.”

She tossed him his pants and trousers as he gave her a confused look.

“What for? Are you two checking Samara Stafford again before she’s sent to St. Mungo’s? I thought you did that yesterday.”

Abigail frowned as she thought of the young girl. She had been fine in class on Thursday if not her usually bubbly self. Camilla’s predicament was weighing on her, but she was doing her best to smile. There hadn’t been any indication of something amiss later in the evening either when she had stopped by the classroom to pick up a book she’d forgotten. The next day however, her dorm mates couldn’t rouse her for class. The three remaining girls were immediately relocated to a different dorm, and O’Connor, Snape, Dumbledore, and Farrow had thoroughly examined the room and their belongings.

_It can’t be a coincidence. Two girls in the same dorm fall into comas, their life draining away. There has to be a connection._

“No. Snape and I have a project we’re working on and we’ve taken up dueling on the weekends again.”

“Dueling? Again?”

“Yes. He made an offhand remark one day last year and I took it as a challenge. We’re 8 and 7 I think.”

She went to walk past him towards the bathroom and he grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back to his chest and burying his face in her neck.”

“You spend plenty of time with the grouchy Potions professor. He can go one weekend without.”

“I’ve already forgotten him once. I’m not about to blow him off _on purpose_. Especially last minute.” She twisted away and gave him a coy look as she backed into the bathroom. She wouldn’t be side tracked. The desire to spend time with Snape was more alluring at the moment. When had that happened? Not that she was complaining. She enjoyed his company greatly. “You’re just going to have to do without me for now.”

He grinned.

“I’m patient. I can wait.”

* * *

Snape was waiting for her in the large unused dungeon. It was on the opposite side of the castle from the Slytherin common room and gave them their privacy, especially with her wards thrown over it.

“You didn’t forget me this time.” Snape said casually. He was hanging his cloak and frock coat on hooks by the door leaving him in shirtsleeves and a vest. When he turned to her, loosening his cravat, his dark eyes raked over her own outfit. Tan and brown vertical striped leggings, brown leather boots almost to her knees, brown leather corset, white blouse.

“You say that every time we get together. I said I’m sorry and I even gave you your favorite foods? What more do you want?”

He just smirked at her and turned to walk the other way.

“I have succeeded in modifying Avenseguim, but I am afraid I cannot get it to trace the Steam or your family member. There is not enough of her or anyone else’s signature there for the spell to register.”

“Dammit. Oh well. Great job on the modification though and thank you for helping. Creating and modifying spells is definitely not my strong suit.”

“You don’t say.”

“Oh feck off.” She was smiling though.

They took up their positions on opposite sides of the ring they had drawn on the floor. The room had a thirty foot diameter and the circle had a twenty-five foot diameter. As they dueled the circle would gradually shrink, providing them with less and less space. The first to step out of the circle lost.

“How did you find out about them this summer? Can you not simply do that again?”

“It’s not that simple. They can only be seen when they take or collect large amounts of Steam. Whoever they took this summer was incredibly gifted.” O’Connor pocketed her wand. Snape glared. He was gifted in nonverbal spells and could perform some wandless magic but not enough for an entire duel yet. It irked him; even more so that he had grudgingly agree to let her instruct him after each battle.

“How do you “see” them?”

“Augur Aurelia. I’m sure that tells you enough.”

“She is more skilled than Trelawney I hope.”

“You have no idea.” O’Connor took up a stance. “No more stalling.”

“I wasn’t-!”

He was forced to throw up a shield as the first spell was sent his way. It crashed against the dome and sparks washed over it like rain. His lip curled and he fired off a leg locker curse as she ran sideways. The difficult part of dueling O’Connor was that because she was able to cast spells without a wand, she was able to toss spells from both hands. Not only that but she could fire two spells simultaneously, often firing a spell with her right hand and casting a shield with her left.

His seven victories had come from extensive knowledge and putting all of his cunning to use. There was no small amount of muggle fighting involved either. Given space they were too evenly matched. They needed to use their physical attributes as well. A spell had to be what knocked one of them out of the circle, but their rules didn’t say they couldn’t use other means to help them. He had won a duel when the circle was seven feet in diameter and he had blocked the swing of her arm, turned her, and sent her out of the circle with Everte Statum to the back.

The circle was bearing down on ten feet and what felt suspiciously like a Bat-Boogey Hex crashed into Snape’s shield and he growled, sending back the Knee-Reversal Hex. O’Connor twirled to his left, deflecting the Hex and throwing her next spell. He rolled right to avoid it, bringing himself closer to her in the process. She was ready with her next spell as he stood and he barely got his hands around her wrists before she brought her hands down on him.

_Impedimenta._

O’Connor gave a light gasp, her eyes widening as she felt the spell wash over her and the realization that he’d not used his wand. His sly cheeky grin told her he’d been waiting to do that. He’d been practicing his wandless magic just to use it in their next duel.

_Homenum Exumai._

He released her as the spell drove her back the foot or so needed to take her out of the circle. She landed on her rump with a squeak of surprise. Snape grinned down at her as she looked at him in shock and appreciation.

“You’ve been really practicing!” She sounded so proud. A small balloon swelled in his chest.

“Of course. I had to even the score after all.”

“Don’t think you’ll hold onto that for long! You have the lead in chess I’m not letting you have this too.”

“I’m afraid I’m not going to give you much choice.”

“Shall we see about that? Come on. We can go again right now.”

Forty-five minutes and two matches later, O’Connor was victorious with a two out of three win. They were collapsed in chairs and breathing heavy. Coco was dancing around them excitedly with a jug of peach and ginger green tea and babbling breathlessly about the third match. She seemed especially happy just to see them spending time together.

“I’m impressed.” O’Connor brushed her hair out of her eyes and turned her head to look at the dark haired man at her side. “You learn so quickly and you seem to have a natural aptitude for it. Is there anything you _can’t_ do?”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” He breathed. She rolled her eyes.

“I’m being serious though. You really are quite talented in practically everything. I’m a little jealous.” He gave her a hard look, but she was smiling genuinely. She wasn’t mocking him.

“What would you say to some lunch? Coco, would you like to help me make some mini Yorkshire puddings with steak and horseradish cream?”

“Yes miss! Coco would be happy to make lunch with you!”

O’Connor leaned down to feign whispering in the little elf’s ear, her hand hiding her mouth from view.

“Perhaps we might even make some Mango, Lime, and Ginger Tarts.”

She grinned at the light that seemed to dance in Snape’s eyes. It had taken time but she was learning his tells. This was a lunch he would enjoy.

* * *

12/18/1989

The fourth floor corridor was breezy as Snape made his way towards the Muggle Studies classroom. Wind from the snow squall outside was whistling through the windows and a few flurries slipped inside here and there. He scowled at the whiteout and pulled his cloak a little tighter.

His reason for even being on the fourth floor was to distribute to all the teachers a list of students leaving on the Hogwarts Express for the holidays. Somehow Minerva had managed to rope him into it. Maybe it was because he was in a strangely good mood lately that he was so accommodating. He wasn’t sure why though. His students weren’t any less incompetent than usual; he hadn’t done any experimenting lately in his lab; Dumbledore hadn’t suddenly come to his senses and offered him Farrow’s job.

Speaking of Farrow, he certainly seemed to be gathering a following. He was young, at least twenty-five, and many of the castles fourth year girls and up seemed to be quite taken with him. Tall, dark haired, and a permanent five o’clock shadow the man had a comely smile that often had the female populace in the school taking leave of their senses. At the last two staff meetings he’d ended up passing out some of the chocolates that seemed to keep finding their way to his desk every other class. Minerva of all people had even blushed when he’d handed her a box of Iced Mice with a cheeky smile.

Snape rolled his eyes. At least the man was modest and didn’t feed into it. More than once he’d had to rebuff a sixth or seventh year in the hall when they’d tried to give him something personally; gently telling them it wasn’t appropriate for a teacher to be accepting gifts from a student in such a way. That didn’t stop the ridiculousness. The girls still followed him through the halls or stopped to stare. Their grades were starting to slip and Snape was sure he’d never seen so many done up faces in all his years.

_At least someone has kept their head._

O’Connor seemed to appreciate the man’s looks, he’d caught her staring after him once, but she partook in none of the girlish fanfare. She didn’t stop in the halls to gawk at him; she wore no more make up than her occasional eye shadow and lipstick; and she didn’t giggle and blush when he smiled and handed her papers in their meetings. For some reason every time Snape saw her lack of response it made him smirk.

_The woman has a brain in her head. I suppose that’s why I can tolerate her so well._

As he approached her classroom, list in hand, he could hear what sounded like music issuing from behind the door. Standing outside he was sure it was the violin. He remembered then that she had brought up having music added to the after class activities. She had said they could bring someone in the first year to teach the students and her to play instruments, and then she would take over as instructor.

During one of her classes in which she explained to her students that Muggles played the instruments themselves she had told them that playing was a way to express one’s emotions and was very freeing. Some of them had taken to the idea readily and so she had broached the subject in one of their staff meetings. He wondered if that’s what she was doing in this class.

Moving carefully he pushed the door open quietly as he could. O’Connor was standing at the front in ridiculous stockings, tan and grown horizontal stripes this time, with short brown leather heeled boots, a brown dress, a khaki colored leather bolero jacket, and a brown leather top hat. He didn’t understand her love for this strange muggle Steampunk trend. 

She brought the bow to her violin as she started her next song. The class seemed to lean forward towards her, eager to listen. Snape watched mystified as she played, her emotion seeming to pour into the room through the music emanating from the small instrument; filling the room with some unnamed feeling. He only belated realized she was singing and swaying along to the music.

_Shatter me!  
Somebody make me feel alive  
And shatter me!_

_If I break the glass, then I'll have to fly  
There's no one to catch me if I take a dive  
I'm scared of changing, the days stay the same  
The world is spinning but only in gray  
If I break the glass, then I'll have to fly  
There's no one to catch me if I take a dive  
I'm scared of changing, the days stay the same  
The world is spinning but only in gray_

_Somebody shine a light  
I'm frozen by the fear in me  
Somebody make me feel alive  
And shatter me  
So cut me from the line  
Dizzy, spinning endlessly  
Somebody make me feel alive  
And shatter me!  
Shatter me!  
Somebody make me feel alive  
And shatter me!_

The class started to clap but silenced almost immediately as she went straight into another song. There were no words to this one, but it still held him rooted to the spot. He watched fascinated as she danced around the front of the room, rotated slowly on the spot, and even dipped to the ground in a backbend so low her knees and shoulder blades hovered mere inches above the ground. She did all this without missing a single note. As the song ended the raucous applause of her class seemed to snap him out of it.

* * *

O’Connor smiled as her group clapped and broke into excited chattering about how they wanted to learn to play, where did she learn to do that, how long before they could do that too? She smiled and looked to the door as she tried to restore order. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Snape had entered the room between songs. He had been watching her with the most peculiar look on his face. She’d like to think it was enjoyment mixed with shock at enjoying it.

All three songs were by a Muggle artist and she was sure the wizarding world had never heard anything like it. Hell she was sure Snape probably didn’t listen to music period. He probably thought it was a waste of time. To her though, music was everything. It evoked emotions some people never even knew they had. It even made you cry at movie scenes you might not have cried at otherwise. Sarah McLachlan and an SPCA commercial over in the states could have you ugly crying in three seconds and up to your eyeballs in puppies and kittens.

Music evoked passion and to her there was no better instrument than the violin. It could express anger, sadness, and happiness better than any other except perhaps the piano. She used it when she needed to feel motivated or needed an outlet for or to work out her emotions. Perhaps for Snape it would be a good way for him to work through his own, even if he wasn’t the one playing.

_I wonder if he’d let me teach him._

The Potions master seemed to shake off whatever it was he was feeling and strode towards the front of the room. Several students jumped at the dark figure suddenly walking by them and she smirked. Apparently she was the only one to have noticed his entrance.

“Professor Snape.” She greeted cordially.

“O’Connor.” He handed her the list McGonagall had given him. “The students that should be leaving on the train Wednesday.”

“Ah! Thank you!” She stood awkwardly for a moment, bobbing on her toes. “Would you like to stay and listen to some more music?” She shook her sleeve back to look at her watch. “I can probably fit another two in.”

The class murmured excitedly.

“I think not.” He inclined his head politely and swept from the room. She put the bow to her violin to start “The Arena” and watched as he seemed to pause by the door. Her eyes bore into him intently as she put as much emotion into the song as she could. He half turned his head, then opened the door and departed.

_Dammit. One of these days Snape. One of these days._

* * *

?

_Professor McGonagall embarrassed me today. Jane and I were passing notes about Aurelio. We were trying to find the best way to get him to notice me. Tess says he likes Jelly Slugs so I was thinking of giving him a box for Christmas on the train home Wednesday. The Professor caught us and took five points. Then she made me read the note out loud. Now everyone keeps making kissy faces at me in the hallways and cooing about Aurelio. I can’t believe she did that! I thought she at least liked me more than Flitwick! I do so well in her classes. I’m so glad I’m not going to be here for the next two weeks!_


	7. Best Christmas, New Year, Birthday Ever!

12/20/1989

Snape paced O’Connor’s office feeling anxious. The students had been safely sent on their way home and the staff had had a meeting immediately afterward. Minerva had been found unconscious at the foot of the stairs leading to the sixth floor by one of the Hogwarts ghosts shortly after midnight. She was suffering from a minor concussion and deep bruising but would make a full recovery. Luckily she had only been part way up the stairs when she encountered the same strange laughter Filius had heard.

At first she had simply thought a student was out of bed. Then she heard the laughter as if the woman was standing right in front of her. That was when she felt the unseen hands seize her shoulders and push. The next thing she remembered she was waking up in the hospital wing. Once again they were left with no clues as to the identity of the attacker.

Following the staff meeting the rest of the professors had retreated to the library to research everything they could that might point them in the right direction. It was well after one in the afternoon and O’Connor had suggested they take a break to eat and drink. She had bumped his shoulder with hers and said she was making clangers if he wanted any, and he had followed her to the fourth floor.

He could hear her bustling around in her rooms with Coco as he pursued her bookshelf. His eyes had just raked over her collection of Stephen King novels when the shine of gold filigree caught his eye. Sitting on the shelf below her collection of horror novels, two thin green books lacking titles were tucked in towards the back of the shelf and partially hidden amongst the other larger books. They looked as if they had been hurriedly stuffed back on the shelf.

Feeling curious he pulled them from their spot and examined them. They were unassuming aside from the bit of filigree around the edges and bore no titles or authors. There was something about them he couldn’t put his finger on. It was as if they seemed familiar to him; as if they gave off a pulsing energy he had felt somewhere before. Flipping open the first cover he found the book’s title in large elegant looping script.

The Art of Astral Projection

By

Amelia Ravenwood

He frowned. Astral Projection was a fool’s errand. There were no documented cases of anyone ever having been able to do so. Many had claimed to have succeeded but there was no proof to back up their stories; no witnesses to the event. Moreover it was theorized to be incredibly detrimental to the body. The soul and physical form were two halves to a whole. To separate them could cause irreparable damage to both; possibly resulting in the soul being unable to return and the body being nothing more than a husk. It was akin to the Dementor’s Kiss.

_I’ve never heard of Amelia Ravenwood. Why does O’Connor have a book like this?_

Snape felt his eyes widen as he paged through the tome. Whoever the author was she wrote as if she had done it. There were detailed potions, incantation, and various diagrams dictating how to replicate her actions. He could almost believe it were possible. A sliver of ice dropped into his stomach. No! He wouldn’t believe it! Not now when he had set himself on giving her his trust. Fingers trembling he opened the second book and almost dropped it.

Rituals and the Human Soul

By

Cavan Ó Súilleabháin

His mouth felt incredibly dry. He stuffed the books back on the shelf rather harder than necessary and backed away from it.

_I can’t jump to conclusions. I did that before and look where it got me. She’s had Dark Arts books here since she started. She told me her family has a history keeping such arts from being practiced. These are just here for research!_

They had felt so dark though. They hummed with that same sickening presence the Steam canister did. That didn’t mean anything though! It didn’t mean she was using them! He forced the thoughts down and told himself she was simply researching possibilities for what was going on in the castle. It fit. That had to be why they were out of place on the usually meticulous shelf.

“Hungy?”

It took all his time as a spy not to jump out of his skin and he turned to face the smiling red head and giddy elf. O’Connor held a tray of clangers and Coco a tray of tea and pistachio raspberry creams. He forced a neutral expression onto his face and sat at her desk.

“Starving.”

He’d never felt less hungry in his life.

* * *

12/25/1989

Christmas morning dawned cold and white. A blizzard had swept in overnight and coated the grounds in at least two feet of fresh powder. O’Connor smiled down at the gleaming blanket feeling giddy. She loved snow. She loved sledding, ice skating, snowball fights, and snowboarding. Winter was full of wonderful activities to take part in. Her cousins often involved her in a large family wide snowball fight complete with snow trenches and forts around the Christmas holiday.

This year however, she had resolved to stay at Hogwarts for the holiday instead of heading out first thing in the morning. With Snape seeming to have warmed to her she wanted to keep momentum and try to draw him out of his shell; and what better way than with food. With Coco at her hip she stood outside Snape’s quarters. The little elf would be able to bring the breakfast tray down with a snap of her fingers _and_ O’Connor had gifts for her.

“Knock, knock!” She rapped her knuckles lightly on the door and waited. For a moment she didn’t think he was going to answer and then the door opened. Snape stood there in black pajamas and a black and silver robe. His hair was still slightly mussed from sleep and he looked like he hadn’t had any caffeine yet.

“Do you not own a watch?” Snape groused.

“Oh come on Snape! It’s Christmas morning! Where’s your holiday spirit?”

She slipped around him and into his sitting room; seating herself on the couch while Coco snapped her fingers to bring down the breakfast tray. Snape glared at them but eyed the serving dish as he seated himself in the armchair.

“We have Irish coffee, orange juice, breakfast sarnies, and apple and cinnamon buns with almond icing and chopped pecans.” She tucked herself into the couch, folded her legs beneath her, and grabbed a coffee. “Coco stop. Come sit. It’s Christmas. You don’t have to worry about that. We can serve ourselves.”

“Miss O’Connor is too good to Coco! Coco is hearing of the goodness of the Irish to us lowly elves. Thank you Miss!”

Snape gave them a curious look as the little elf hopped up onto the couch beside the woman, her legs so short her feet barely came to the edge of the cushion. O’Connor just smiled and made a small plate for her.

_Always with the secrets._

He found he couldn’t look at her as he selected two sarnies. The thought of those books weighed heavily on his mind. As much as he wanted to put his suspicions to bed, to trust her as she said she did him, the doubt kept niggling at the back of his mind. It left a bitter taste of guilt on his tongue but try as he might he couldn’t get rid of it.

“Hello. Earth to Snape.” He raised his obsidian eyes to hers looking surprised. “You didn’t hear a thing I said did you?”

“I apologize.” She laughed lightly and waved the box she was holding out to him. “What’s this?”

“Your Christmas present. What else?”

The man looked shocked.

“My… I didn’t…”

“That’s all right. I didn’t get you this expecting you to have something for me in return. I got it because I wanted to.”

Snape swallowed thickly and gently took the box from her. She smiled eagerly, almost bouncing on the couch cushion. His fingers almost felt numb as his undid the silver bow and unwrapped the teal paper. Inside was a black velvet box and sitting on the cushion within was a set of charms like those that hung from her waist. Dark obsidian met forest green.

“They’re for protection. For whatever you might need protection from. That is a mini Foe-Glass, and the one with the blue ring around the outside is also a Foe-Glass; however it tells you when someone you care about is in danger. It will show them and their attacker facing each other. The little bell will chime whenever you’re around someone with ill intent. It’s kind of like a Sneakoscope except less ear piercing. The little monocle will vibrate if someone is using some type of concealment, and the little gold snake will hiss if someone is lying. You’re the only one who will hear and see all these affects though.”

“What about this little compass?”

O’Connor fidgeted slightly and played with the hem of her shirt.

“Well, when two people have a compass it allows them to always know where to look for each other. So if you need them you just follow the arrow and it will lead you right to them. As long as they’re wearing theirs of course.”

Snape stared at the charms feeling touched and guilty all at once.

“Thank you. This was very thoughtful.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over the little snake.

“I have the same ones except instead of a snake I have a little wolf that howls.”

“I never did ask what you did before coming here. Is that why you have these?”

“Oh, I was an Auror. Well I still am actually. I’m on call during the summer months in case they might need me.”

He stared at her.

“Yep. Being a metamorphmagus makes it easy to go under cover as a person buying or selling illegal items. So I’m not well known outside the department because of that. I’ve actually worked with Arthur Weasley quite a bit to catch muggle baiters.”

“That explains your familiarity with the boys.”

“They really are such a sweet family.”

“I can’t say I’m not impressed with them academically. Those twins are going to be trouble though. I can tell already.”

O’Connor laughed.

“I wouldn’t doubt it. Arthur said their terrible twos were _really_ terrible.” She produced another box from her robe and handed it to Coco. “This is for you my dear.”

“For meeees?” The elf’s large eyes quickly welled with tears, her lower lip trembling. She had only ever received gifts from two other people in her life. “You would give a gift to Coco for Christmas?”

“More than one actually.”

The little creature looked close to dissolving into tears. O’Connor quickly hugged her and calmed her down, urging her to open the box. Inside was her very own mug with her name on it and a picture of the castle covered in snow and Christmas lights. It was charmed to reflect the castle in whatever season or holiday it was. There was an extra thick doily knitted together like a hat to keep her ears warm, a duvet toga, and O’Connor had taken pieces of a thick woolen blanket and converted them into shoes.

Coco was beside herself and sobbed thankfully into the woman’s robe. Snape hid a smile behind his teacup. He was fond of the elf for his own reasons and was happy to see that she valued her as well. Anyone who treated magical creatures with as much respect as they would another human being ranked high on his list.

“Coco?”

“Yes Professor Snape?”

“I believe there is something else for you.”

He nodded toward the green wrapped package that wasn’t sitting beside her a moment ago. With trembling fingers the little elf pulled back the glimmering paper. Rows of different colored fudge, Chocoballs of strawberry mousse and clotted cream, and coconut ice all stared back at her. She promptly burst into tears just as she did every year when she opened his gift. O’Connor leaned over and pulled her into a hug, cautioning her not to melt the candy with her tears. Snape watched them with the smallest smile on his face, feeling it was the best Christmas he’d had in a very long time.

* * *

12/31/1989

Abigail cooed appreciatively as Nikolai handed her another photo of his Great Dane. Her name was Marmalade, she was Fawn colored, and she was absolutely adorable. She was also apparently a trouble maker, having once plowed through a table of pies he had baked for a family reunion.

“I was so upset. I’d even managed to decorate the top crust for the cherry pies like daisies.” Nikolai laughed.

“Were you able to salvage any?”

“Not a one and of course she had a field day eating as much as she could before we wrangle her back inside. Her stomach did not appreciate the snack. Neither did my carpet.”

She burst out laughing.

“Oh no!”

“I’ve never been so glad for magic. I was able to remake the pies in time for the party _and_ salvage my floor.”

“Well at least you _can_ use cleaning spells. I’m rubbish at them.”

He laughed, set aside the photos, and shifted up from where he was tucked into her side to bury his face in her hair. His lips trailed up the side of her neck, his hand threading through her auburn locks.

“You know, we still have time before we have to meet the others.”

Abigail smiled coyly as he pressed his hips against her own. It was an enticing idea, but lately the prospect was less and less appealing. She wasn’t any less attracted to the handsome Alchemy teacher or any less sated after their nights together, but she just didn’t feel that same draw she had before. In the beginning she looked forward to their weekly trysts with enthusiasm. Now she just felt lack luster and she wasn’t sure why. 

She may not be the relationship type, but she wasn’t flighty either. She was not the type to sleep with someone until she got her fix and move on. Her relationships typically lasted at least a year. It was fun to have someone to get to know and enjoy all aspects of their company and build a good rapport; and when their time together ended they usually remained close friends. Tom had even asked her to be his best woman at his wedding. Perhaps it was a bit odd but they were closer than he was with his other friends and she _had_ introduced him to Eliza.

Somehow, things were different now. She wasn’t bored, but she it didn’t really appeal to her anymore. Things didn’t feel exciting and while sex was always nice she didn’t feel that same thrill about it any longer. Instead of “hell yes”, she felt more like “sure, why not”. Abigail wasn’t sure exactly when it started or why. She just knew their time together wouldn’t be lasting much longer. Instead of round two, she felt more like getting it over with and going back to her day; or night in this case.

“You’re forgetting I have to shower _and_ get the snacks I promised ready. Why don’t you get cleaned up and I’ll see you on the pitch?”

Dumbledore had procured a wonderful assortment of fireworks for the students and faculty who had stayed at the castle for the holidays. They would be set off from one end of the Quidditch field while everyone watched from the other end. Abigail was quite looking forward to it.

“How about we shower _together_? Then I can help you carry the snacks to the pitch.” His hand trailed over her stomach and down over her hip. She grinned cheekily and kissed him before pushing away.

“Down boy. Save some of that energy for later. Now go get ready, before we’re late.”

He gave her a heated smile but departed nonetheless, promising to see her later.

Abigail showered quickly and dressed in a pair of tight jeans, a white blouse, underbust corset, and a thick black cloak. She decided to leave her hair down, picked up her tray of Turmeric and Caraway Goosnargh biscuits, and stepped into the hallway. Halfway to the stairs something moved in the corner of her periphery and she stopped to look down the corridor intersecting the hallway. The end of a cloak disappeared around the far corner. Curious, she followed their upwards trek through the castle.

“Snape?” The dark haired Potions master turned to her as she crested the stairs to the Astronomy tower. “What are you doing up here? Why aren’t you at the pitch?”

“You honestly believe I want to sit amongst my dunderhead students listening to them fawning over an insignificant light show?”

“An insignificant light show, and yet here you are in probably one of the best positions to watch it.”

His eyes darkened for a moment and it looked like he was about to leave.

“Coco!”

There was a pop and the little elf was standing there in the outfit O’Connor had gifted her for Christmas.

“Yes, Miss Abigail?”

“Can you take this tray down to Minerva at the Quidditch pitch?” She conjured a plate and transferred some of the biscuits to it before handing the cloche to Coco. “When you’re done, feel free to join us back here to watch the fireworks, okay?”

“Of course miss. Right away!”

“Thank you, Coco.”

With another pop she was gone.

“I do not know why you bothered. I was just about to leave.”

“Nonsense. Eat a damn biscuit and get ready for the show.”

She looped her left arm with his right and pulled him back to the railing, gesturing with her plate until he caved and took a biscuit. His eyes widened for a moment.

“They’re sandwiched with a mango chili jam. What do you think?”

“I think perhaps you should have left the tray.”

She laughed and nudged his hip with her own.

“I’ll fatten you up yet!” He rolled his eyes just as Coco returned. “Hello again Coco. Is everyone happily tucking into the biscuits?”

“Yes miss. Professors McGonagall and Levitsky asked if you were ok and if you’d be joining them.”

Snape scoffed and made to pull away from her again but she held fast.

“Just tell them I’m fine and I decided to stay at the castle tonight. I’ll see them at breakfast tomorrow morning.” She glanced at her watch. 11:25. “Hurry back. It’s about to start!”

“Professor Blackwell last year and Levitsky this year. You’re a hot commodity at this school.”

O’Connor’s gaze turned sharp.

“You best not be insinuating anything unsavory with that tone.” She snarled. “I am not some slut given to sleeping with any man that sends her a lascivious gaze!”

She made to drop his arm and go to the pitch after all when Coco returned, but Snape was the one who refused to let go this time. His hand settled over her forearm and he opened and closed his mouth twice before Coco returned. O’Connor glared at him and he met her eyes resolutely, the obsidian depths trying to convey something he couldn’t bring himself to say in front of the elf. Whatever it was didn’t matter as the first of the fireworks exploded, bathing them in gold as the Hogwarts crest lit up the sky.

“Oh wow.”

For half an hour they were treated to a wide array of colors spanning the entire rainbow and then some. They watched in wonder at the beautiful light show above them and O’Connor found herself leaning into the bitter biting man at her side. She didn’t know who or what had hurt him so bad that he felt the need to lash out in such ways, but she wished she could find them and teach them a lesson.

The grand finale included a massive dragon and the four house crests just as the clock tower chimed midnight. It soared across the grounds, breathing fire into the sky, and disappeared above their heads to explode over the castle, raining down the little house crest like snow. O’Connor smiled and reached out to catch one in her hand. Snape watched her silently while Coco cheered enthusiastically beside them.

She turned to look at him, already forgiving him for all the hard prickly layers he used to protect himself. He froze stiff as she leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. Behind her Coco gave a squealing gasp.

“Happy New Year, Severus. All is forgiven.” She pointed a finger at him. “Don’t press your luck though.”

She smiled at his look of surprise and turned to calm the blushing babbling elf behind her.

* * *

1/8/1990

Snape groaned as he settled into his favorite armchair in front of the fire. Five days. The students had been back for five days and already they were driving him crazy. There was a headache building behind his eyes, he felt utterly exhausted, and it was only Monday. He was dreading the rest of the week if this was how it was starting out. Perhaps he would have a cup of the raspberry chamomile tea O’Connor had gifted him on Boxing Day and head to bed early. Yes. That sounded acceptable.

Standing he called Coco, asked her to prepare the tea, and slipped off to grab a quick shower. Maybe he would even try the aromatic soap that Poppy had gifted everyone for Christmas. She delighted in finding body healthy soaps and foods to give everyone for the holidays. This year was a shampoo and body wash all in one. Lavender for its ability to relieve stress and anxiety and promote good feelings; and lemon grass for skin health and to relieve muscle aches. He could use a little of all of that right now.

_I didn’t realize either of those cleared out your sinuses as well!_

Snape blew his nose for the fifth time, the skin already feeling raw, and he hadn’t even left the bathroom. For some reason the minute he finished his shower his nose seemed determined to run like a broken faucet. He growled angrily as he stormed into his bedroom and settled himself on his bed, the cup of tea he asked for steaming on his nightstand. It seemed less appealing for a moment but he downed it quickly and settled under the covers. He intended to read a few pages of _The Scarlet Letter_ , but he was asleep before he finished the first paragraph.

* * *

The next morning Snape awoke with a head full of cotton. His sinuses were painfully congested and his nose just as determined to run off his face as it was the night before. He felt overly warm and his damp tangled sheets were a testament to a night of sweat and restlessness. There was no getting around it even if he hated the thought with a passion. He never got sick and yet here he was.

_Dammit. This won’t do at all!_

Snarling about how ridiculous it was for him to get sick he stood and tried to make his way to the cabinet that housed his potions. He staggered sideways as the world tilted on its axis and reached out a hand to steady himself against the bedpost. His temper flared and he stormed across the room, wrenched the cabinet open, and downed a bottle of Pepper Up in one swallow.

The usual steam poured from his ears with gusto and he felt his head and sinuses clear and his fever lessen. He slammed the vial down on the nearby table and stalked over to his closet. This was ridiculous. He didn’t _do_ sick and he wasn’t about to start now. The potion would clear up whatever this nuisance was and he could go about his classes as usual without having to think about it.

The problem was that whatever it was he’d been stricken with didn’t want to be ignored. By the time he’d forced down some toast and eggs in the Great Hall and returned to the dungeons he’d developed a shiver that didn’t want to quit. He downed one more Pepper Up, probably not the best idea but he’d be all right, and quickly cleared the steam with a wave of his wand as his first class entered.

He set the first years about their task and stalked around the classroom as usual. The second dose seemed to be doing its job and staved off the worst of the symptoms. There was the occasional shiver but he suppressed it and his voluminous black robes hid any small movement that he couldn’t fully contain. His nose had stopped running at least and the cotton feeling was gone. No one was any the wiser of his predicament.

At least that was what Snape thought. Had he looked in the mirror properly that morning he might have realized there was no hiding his illness. His usual pallor, which had started to look healthier that year, was dreadfully pale with dark circles under his eyes and flushed cheeks. There was a thin sheen of sweat glistening just along his hair line despite his slight chill and he was not walking entirely straight. The first years were too scared to say anything about it though and opted to hold their tongues.

By the time Snape ordered the class to bottle their potions and set them on his desk he could feel the potions starting to wear off. The chills were back with a vengeance and his head was starting to fill with cotton again. His sinuses were painful, bringing an aching throb behind his eyes and the world felt like it was tilted beneath his feet. He refused to give in though. He was strong enough to withstand this until lunch. Then he would take another dose of Pepper Up to get through his final class. After that he could admit defeat and crawl into bed until tomorrow morning.

Connor Davenport looked down at the frazzled first year Hufflepuff with appreciation. Most students were turned away by Professor Snape’s demeanor and couldn’t give a damn about the man. He was cruel and vindictive to most and it didn’t inspire any positive feelings and certainly not care towards him. Yet here was an entire class of Hufflepuffs and Raveclaws crowded in the hallway before him, their elected “leader” ringing his hand as he stared up at the Slytherin who was also Headboy.

“He looks really bad Connor. I thought he was just gonna fall right over!”

“He’s white as a ghost!” A Ravenclaw girl piped up.

Connor smiled gratefully and thanked them for coming to him with their concerns about their teacher.

“I’ll be sure to check on Professor Snape and make sure he’s ok. Now you guys run along to class okay?”

The group nodded and filtered out of the hallway. Connor watched them go before turning to enter the dungeon classroom. It was his N.E.W.T class and he was one of only five students to be in it. There was him, fellow Slytherin Claire Michaels, Ravenclaws Susan Brass and Jonathan Young, and Hufflepuff Charlie Ó’Cléirigh. He was the last to enter and he could see what the first years were talking about.

Professor Snape was pale as a sheet with sweat glistening across his forehead. He was leaning heavily against his desk and Connor could tell he was fighting down the urge to shiver. It was obvious by the slight tremors flitting through him, despite how rigid he held himself.

_Yep. Definitely_ very _sick. He must have the flu everyone’s been coming down with. Why does he have to be so prideful?_

Connor briefly leaned down to Charlie and whispered in his ear before taking his seat at the front. Snape looked up from his papers at the sound of a chair being moved and nodded at the boy. Connor winced as he walked around the desk and waved his wand at the chalkboard, his gait halting. The instructions for an incredibly difficult potion appeared on the board and Snape opened his mouth to start his lecture. He paused as Charlie’s hand shot into the air.

“Yes, Mr. Ó’Cléirigh?” He growled

“Bathroom, sir? Stomach ache.” The boy groaned.

“Fine. Go. But don’t expect me to repeat anything you miss!”

“Yes, sir!”

The boy all but dashed out of the room. Snape pursed his lips but didn’t seem to dare yelling. Connor didn’t blame him. The professor was looking paler by the second and he was sure the man was swaying slightly. No. He was _positive_ about that. Their professor started the lecture but he sounded like he had just run a marathon and the small tremors that he’d tried to hide were turning into full blown shivers, his teeth chattering together. Claire shifted in her seat looking scared as his face paled even further and his words faltered.

_Oh don’t_ tell _me he’s going to…_

Sure enough as Snape stepped forward to walk down the aisle between desks they watched in horror as his knee buckled beneath him and his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. Claire and Susan squealed and covered their mouths. Jonathan shot to his feet but he was too far back to do anything. Seated in the front row Connor dived forward like a baseball player sliding home and barely got his hands under his teacher’s face in time. He gasped in pain as Snape’s cheekbone landed squarely in his palm and ground his knuckles against the stone floor.

“Holy shit Connor!” Jonathan was quickly at his side. “Nice save! I thought his face was done for sure.”

“Is he ok?” Claire leaned over their professor looking wan and scared.

“Well he’s still breathing. He’s really sick though.” Connor sat up and gently rolled Snape onto his back. “He feels like a furnace!”

“Why isn’t he in bed resting?” Susan’s voice was unnaturally high. “Why is he here teaching if he’s this bad?”

“It’s Snape. Do you think he’s going to admit being sick; even to himself?” Jonathan scoffed.

“We need to get Madam Pomfrey.” Claire was already heading for the door.

“Charlie’s on it, but I had him go get Professor O’Connor instead.”

“What?” Susan said. “So he didn’t really have a stomach ache?”

“Nope. The first year class before us told me about Snape and when I saw him I knew it was bad. I figured if anyone could talk him into going back to bed she might. Plus I think he’d be the least embarrassed with her.”

“That was a really good idea Connor. Good job.” Claire smile widely at him.

* * *

Abigail was well into a seventh year lecture on the similarities between muggle and wizard prejudices and the parts they played in the Second World War and the First Wizarding War when the knock came on her door. Charlie Ó’Cléirigh stood there out of breath and looking worried. She was instantly on edge and slipped into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

“What is it Mr. Ó’Cléirigh? Is everything all right?”

“No ma’am. It’s Professor Snape. He’s really sick looking and Connor asked me to come get you right away.”

A chill went through her and she hurriedly ducked back into her classroom to tell them she needed to attend to something immediately and to read quietly until the bell. Then she rushed to the dungeons with Charlie at her heels.

“What happened exactly?”

“We just came into class and he was really pale and flushed with dark circles under his eyes. He was sweating too but you could tell he was trying really hard not to shiver because I’ve never seen anyone stand so rigidly.”

“Damn fool. He probably has the flu. No doubt you’ve noticed Madam Pince and Professors Babbling and Farrow were missing at breakfast.”

“I did.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice _he_ was sick. Then again he was in and out of the hall so _fast_.”

They arrived in the dungeon soon enough and for a moment Abigail felt the bottom of her stomach drop out. Snape was lying on his back with his students crowded around him looking worried. Charlie was right. The man looked awful. She swallowed thickly and hurried to his side. He was out like a light, breathing labored, and pale as a ghost. The students had tried to make him comfortable. They’d conjured a pillow and a thick blanket and there was a cool flannel on his forehead.

“You guys did well under the circumstances.” She knelt beside her colleague and gripped his shoulder, giving him a firm shake. “Severus? Severus can you hear me?”

He didn’t so much as twitch.

“We’re going to have to carry him to his quarters. Connor, Jonathan, you two can carry the stretcher.” Abigail transfigured a chair into said stretcher. “Claire, Susan, I need you two watching the corridors to make sure no one sees us. I want to try and preserve his dignity as much as we can. Charlie just hang tight with me in case the boys need help.”

They carefully loaded Snape onto the litter and with the girls ok carried him into the corridor. It wasn’t far to Snape’s quarters and thankfully no one was in the dungeons to see them. Abigail opened the door to his rooms without issue and directed them to the bedroom. There was a nervous energy about the teens, as if they expected their teacher to wake any moment and tear into them for having dared to enter his private chambers.

“Let’s just get him onto the bed. I’ll take it from there.”

With Snape settled on the bed she saw the kids to the door.

“I want to thank you all for such a job well done today. Twenty points for each of you for recognizing someone in need and rising to the occasion.” She smiled widely at them. “Not many students would have done what you did today. I’m very proud of you.”

“Professor Snape’s not so bad once you get to know him.” Connor said. “He usually treats his older classes better. I think it’s his way of acknowledging our skill and potential.”

“Will he be ok?” Susan worried her lip as she peered back into her teacher’s room.

“He should be. I’ll have Madam Pomfrey come down and take a look at him. I trust I don’t need to tell you to keep all of this to yourselves.”

“Our lips are sealed.” Claire said.

“Cross our hearts!” Jonathan said.

“Hope to die!” Charlie quipped.

“Stick a needle in our eyes!” Susan laughed.

Abigail shook her head.

“You kids are too much. Run along now. Just read from your text until the bell.”

With the kids gone she returned to Snape’s bedroom and decided to make him comfortable before she called for Poppy. She removed his boots, pulled off his cloak, and trailed a finger down the long line of buttons adorning the front of his frock. They passed through the opposing fabric and she removed the coat and cravat and undid the top two buttons of his shirt. Her face felt very hot as she quickly removed his belt and pulled the covers over him.

_He didn’t so much as twitch through any of that. Damnable fool. Why did you let it get this bad?_

She brushed the damp hair from his forehead before heading to the fireplace. Poppy was seated at her desk filling out paperwork when she stuck her head through the fire. 

“Abigail! You nearly scared the life out of me. What is it? Has something happened?”

“You could say that. Can you come through to Professor Snape’s quarters for me?”

“Severus? Has there been an accident?”

“Not his office Poppy. His personal quarters, please.”

The matron’s face became serious and she nodded quickly, grabbing her bag and stepping up to the fire. A moment later she was standing in the Potions masters sitting room and then briskly following Abigail to his bedroom.

“He must have the flu Poppy. Charlie Ó’Cléirigh came to my classroom in a right state and by the time we made it back down to the dungeons Snape had already passed out.”

“Prideful man!”

Abigail sat silently as Poppy worked, her leg bouncing nervously while she waited. The flu by itself wasn’t so bad, but it could lead to other things like pneumonia if you weren’t careful. She hoped he hadn’t gone and made things worse by trying to work through it. Aside from keeping in shape with his daily jogs around the castle the man didn’t care for himself very well. His sallow skin and limp hair were evidence to that. Though she had managed to get him eating better this year and his complexion had improved somewhat. It was a miracle he rarely ever got sick.

“Well I don’t think he’s made himself to worse off. He needs to stay in bed and _rest_ until I say he’s well enough to be up and moving about. Can I assume you’re going to stay here with him?”

“I am.”

“Good. When he wakes up give him this fever reducer and make _sure_ he drinks plenty of fluids. See if you can get him to eat some toast or porridge as well, or some fruit.”

“I’ll be sure to Poppy.”

“Come and get me right away if he seems to be getting worse.”

Abigail nodded and saw the matron through the floo before calling on Coco.

“Yes Miss Abigail?” Her eyes fell on Snape’s prone form on the bed and she gasped before shrilly crying and running over to the bed. “Oh mister Snape sir! What is happening to you?!”

“It’s all right Coco. He just has the flu; but it’s ok because we’re here to nurse him back to health, right?”

“Of course Miss Abigail! Coco is doing everything she can to help mister Snape get better! Coco will go grab tea and broth and orange juice and…”

“Whoa whoa, Coco!” She laughed lightly. “Let’s just start with some water and porridge ok? I don’t want to give him too much at first. Let’s see how he’s feeling when he wakes up.”

“Good idea Miss Abigail! Coco will go get those right away!”

* * *

Snape woke slowly, feeling hot and cold all at once. His head felt heavy and full of cotton and there was a fierce pounding behind his eyes that throbbed in time with his pulse. For a moment he didn’t know where he was. The last thing he remembered he was with his N.E.W.T level class.

_Oh no…_

The realization that he had passed out in the middle of his lecture hit him full force and the embarrassment and shame washed over him. He would never live it down. It would be the talk of the school. Professor Snape, dungeon bat, faints like some swooning maiden over a little cold. The thought was enough to make him feel even sicker.

Something brushed over his forehead and he startled slightly, cracking his eyes open to see what had touched him. Abigail’s blurry face hovered came into focus looking worried. She was charming the flannel across his brow so that it was cool again. When she noticed he was staring back at her she let out a sigh of relief and bowed her head.

“Thank god! You’re finally awake! I was just about to get Poppy.”

The words were slow to process in his addled brain. Why would she need to get Poppy? Why did she look so relieved to see him wake up?

“Here, drink this. You’re fever is really high.” A cool thin hand lifted his head while the other tipped a bottle against his lips. The liquid was bitter and tasted of cloves but he felt his muddled thoughts begin to clear almost immediately. The uncomfortable warmth began to recede from his body as well.

“This too.” The bottle was replaced with a glass and blessedly cool water filled his mouth. Abigail was careful and tipped small amounts at a time so he didn’t drink to fast or choke. He was grateful and irritated at the same time. He was a grown man and could take care of himself.

When she finally settled his head back on the pillows he was able to take in his surroundings. They were not in the hospital wing as he had assumed. Instead the familiar earth tones of his bedroom greeted him. His eyes trailed over the red head pulling the armchair closer to his bed. Had she had something to do with that? Why was she even here?

“Connor had Charlie come and get me when they saw how awful you looked. You should be grateful. They knew you wouldn’t want this getting around.”

He glared at her as best he could. His vision was still a little blurry.

“I didn’t Legilimize you if that’s what you’re thinking. You’re just really expressive right now.” Snape tried to school his features but he must have been very unsuccessful because she smothered a laugh.

“Would you like some porridge? Coco added honey because it’s very good for you, especially when you’re sick.” She tipped her head slightly and he turned to the foot of his bed. The little elf was out cold by his feet. “We were getting worried. It’s quite late in the day now and she’s been pacing and crying up a storm. She was beginning to think you wouldn’t wake up.”

He rolled his eyes.

“I’m fine. It just a cold.”

“Cold my ass. You’ve been out for a really long time. It’s nearly dinner time you know and you had a fever of just under 40 degrees.”

He stared at her.

“Yea. Dumbass. Why didn’t you go to Poppy right away? You never should have tried teaching today.”

Snape looked properly chastised.

“That’s what I thought. Would you like some food?” He turned away for a moment, color rising in his cheeks. Abigail was immediately alarmed. “Are you ok? Is your temperature rising again already?

“More than needing food I…”

He trailed off looking embarrassed. Abigail stared at him for a moment before it clicked and she felt color rise in her own cheeks.

“Would you prefer if I went and got Poppy?”

“No! Let’s just get it over with as quickly as possible.” He shoved the covers off and paused not only because the world tilted sideways, but because he noticed what he was wearing.

“Did you change me?”

“Not completely. I just stripped you down to your dress shirt and pants then transfigured them to something more comfortable after Poppy left.” A sly grin spread over her face. “Did you want me to?”

“Let’s just get this over with!” He growled.

They moved carefully, O’Connor having to support most of his weight. Despite the fever reducer his temperature was still high and it made him weak and kept him off balance. Once he was settled back in bed, looking as if he’d run a mile, she handed him the bowl of porridge. He looked unhappy at being treated like an invalid but allowed it. There wasn’t really anything he could do about it at this point and as much as he hated to admit it he needed the help.

_Just sitting upright is difficult._

Snape was able to eat half of the bowl before his stomach had had enough and O’Connor took the bowl for him.

“Here. You need to keep up on your fluids as much as rest.” He eyed the cup of tea. His sense of smell was shot and his sinuses blocked and he couldn’t immediately tell what it was.

“It’s chamomile, mint, and hibiscus.” She smiled as he took the teacup. “You should sleep after you’ve finished that, but if you’d like I’ll permit some reading.”

“What are you, my mother?” He turned to her suddenly looking horrified.

“You’re lucky you’re sick. I could have taken that and run with it. Now would you like a book or not.”

“I don’t think I could focus on the words even if I wanted to.” She had to admit he was looking drained. This was probably his roundabout way of admitting that.

O’Connor helped him settle down under the sheets and leaned back in her chair. He frowned at her.

“You’re going to stay here?”

“At least until your fever is fully broken.” Snape looked incredulous. “You can hardly even sit up straight. What if you need something or get worse in the night? I told you before how bad your fever was. I’m not leaving you alone after that.”

He huffed but didn’t say anything else. She smiled and leaned over the side of her chair to pick up her violin from where she’d set it. Placing the bow to the strings she began a low and slow melody, ever so soft and lovely. Snape’s eyes snapped open and he looked at her in surprise. He tried to put up a font of being irritated but she knew the truth.

“What are you doing?”

“Playing the violin to help you sleep. You seemed to like it well enough in my classroom the other day.” He glared at her and she rolled her eyes. “I was playing earlier to pass the time. You were somewhat restless as well and I thought it might help and I was right. So just go with it.”

Snape scoffed at her but closed his eyes anyway. Despite himself he felt a warm feeling blossom in his chest at the thought that she cared enough to want to do so. It was nice to have someone who was so thoughtful towards him for once; and as the soft tones of the violin washed over him he drifted into a peaceful sleep with the smallest of smiles on his face.

_Thank you…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song she plays to help Snape sleep is Lovely by Billie Eilish
> 
> I also left some more clues as to who the actor is that I based Nikolai's appearance after.


	8. Suspicions, Betrayal, and Second Chances

???

_I don’t know why they even have a Slytherin house. Everyone knows all the dark witches and wizards come from there! They should just send anyone sorted into that house straight home! They think they’re so much better than the rest of the school just because they’re pure-blood; and they treat everyone like dirt. They aren’t that special! Madeline is top of the class and she’s a half-blood._

_I just feel so bad for Jane. Her parents just gave her that music box for Christmas. At least Professor O’Connor was able to put it mostly back together. I bet that ass Dorset still has the missing piece._

* * *

1/14/1990

Whatever new force was at work within the castle didn’t waste any time once the students returned. Two Sundays after they arrived back from the holiday Dorset Scarbrough was found in a coma. As usual Poppy, Snape, and O’Connor examined the student before he was sent off to St. Mungo’s; and just as before they were left without any explanation as to what was causing it. They had no further clues as to why either. None of the student seemed to have anything in common. No. That was a lie. They did all have one thing in common. They were all pure-blood or had very little muggle blood in their family.

Snape growled and raked his hands through his hair as he paced his sitting room. Not only were they all students of O’Conner’s, but she was one of the last people to have contact with each of them aside from their house members. She had hugged Camilla at the Halloween feast, Samara had come to her classroom for a forgotten book before turning in for the night, and now Dorset had served a detention with her for breaking another student’s property.

He felt agitated. He had worked with O’Connor all of last year and they had gone through a hell of an ordeal together. She’d mauled a man to protect him and one of his students. They’d survived an Acromantula attack together and were nearly crushed by an Occamy. As much as he hated to admit it a tentative bond had formed between them after the last year. The kind of bond people form when they go through traumatic experiences together.

This year he’d learned a personal fact about her and been let in on a closely guarded family secret. Despite her mysteries she was open with him and willing to reveal more about herself as their rapport grew. That was especially so any time something happened that caused her trust in him to grow. So it was frustrating to him that despite all of that he still found himself jumping to dubiety with her.

He wished he could say he didn’t know why he always tried to assume the worst with her, but he did. To admit such lack of control of his emotions left him disgusted with himself; but he was beginning to enjoy their time together, to look forward to their chess matches and weekend duels. She seemed to genuinely enjoy his company and even seemed to care about him. The woman had refused to leave him alone on New Years and had even nursed him back to health last week.

His life was not meant for such positives though. If he didn’t muck it up like he had with Lily, he was sure O’Connor would eventually find someone else to occupy her time. Probably someone less cruel and vindictive and far more handsome and kind. Perhaps she was simply using him to pass the time and would eventually grow bored of him.

So instead of waiting for the other shoe to drop if he just assumed the worst now, he wouldn’t be blindsided later. He wouldn’t be disappointed or let down that way. It was better than getting his hopes up and having them dashed, but it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to trust her without any doubts no matter what the situation. This song and dance had been done before. It had to stop.

“This is ridiculous! I will do what I should have done in the first place and ask her about the books!”

Snape left his quarters in a whirl of black fabric, intent on stalking up to O’Connor’s office. He would demand; no, asking was better; he would ask why she had those two books. Was she feeding on the students like her relative? Had she attacked Filius and Minerva? Did she have the books for research and not practical use? Was she trying to find out how the actual criminal was operating?

_That sounds more like the O’Connor I’ve come to know._

“Hm?”

His boot had just touched the landing to the Entrance Hall when the sound of light and hurried footsteps reached his ears. It was well after sunset and hidden in the flickering shadows of the stairwell he could see the hooded figure that descended the main staircase and pushed open the front doors. Locks of flaming red hair spilling from beneath the cowl told him it was O’Connor. As she passed into the moonlight her cloak rippled with a disillusionment spell. No one would be able to see her unless they were looking closely; and he looking _very_ closely.

_Fate is either conspiring for me or against me._

Snape tapped the top of his head and felt the familiar tingling of the disillusionment trickle over him. If was obvious where she was going and he gave her a head start before silently following to the Forbidden Forest. Twice she looked back to see if she was being followed. He would stop, pulling his cloak tight to prevent movement, and she would looked right through him.

The hidden bonfire was as she left it at the start of term. Hidden behind one of the larger trees he watched as she threw on a few more branches and ignited it wordlessly with her index finger. A small purple velvet pouch appeared from the folds of her cloak and she cast a pinch of powder into the fire. The flames roared high and turned a vibrant violet color. For a moment she just stared at them and then something dark began to revolve within them, steadily growing larger.

Snape stared at the face of the woman that appeared in the flames. She was ageless, sporting no wrinkles but lacking the innocent look of youth, and her eyes were completely white. There were no pupils no irises, just expanses of white. Perched on her head was something between a Beret and a Pillbox. The stiff rim was lined with pretty beads and stones with strings of them hanging to frame her face.

“I’m sorry for doing this so late Augur Aurelia, but there are fewer people for me to run into now and even fewer to see me going into the forest.”

_So_ this _is Augur Aurelia, the one who can see her rogue family members._

Snape waited to hear the seer’s reply but none was forthcoming. She just stared out of the fire at the red-haired woman. At least he thought she was looking at her. Her face was pointed that direction at least. Without any pupils it was difficult to tell where the woman was looking. Suddenly O’Connor was speaking again, as if the woman _had_ replied. He frowned at them. Had he missed it?

“No, not a thing. You’d never even know there was anyone or thing in the dorm and there isn’t a mark on any of the kids.”

A frigid sliver of ice dropped into his stomach making him feel hollow. It couldn’t be. He didn’t want to believe it.

“I tried. I really tried but I couldn’t go through with it.”

_Tried what? What couldn’t she go through with? And how in the hell was this woman communicating with O’Connor?_

“Damn right I am! One wrong move and it’s all over for me!” O’Connor threw up her hands and started pacing. “What would it have all been for then?”

What good would all _what_ be for? What was she talking about and what couldn’t she go through with? A horrifying thought occurred. Had she _tried_ to kill Filius and Minerva but lost her nerve and only ended up injuring them? If she was guilty of the five attacks it really would be all over for her. She’d be in Azkaban for life if they didn’t give her the death penalty outright.

“Yes well that’s a lot easier said than done with the looming consequences.” She sighed heavily and stopped her pacing to stare at the Augur. “What about M&M? Have they responded?"

Snape scowled. _Consequences._ So that was it then. She was the one attacking their colleagues and the students. If felt as if an iron fist had closed around his chest and he couldn’t breathe. O’Connor had been playing him for a fool the entire time; and to think he… A hot rage built up in him. How _dare_ she? He wondered who M&M were. Accomplices?

“What do the cards say? The bones?”

His rage fizzled slightly. Cards? Bones? What was she talking about now? Was she mad?

“I see. How long before the students…?”

_Why do you care? Afraid they’ll I.D you when they wake up?_

“Not as long as I had hoped.” O’Connor sounded strained and she rubbed her forehead fretfully. “Were you able to find the book?”

He frowned.

_More books for her to use against us?_

“I’ll be careful, I promise.”

The purple flames rippled as Aurelia’s face disappeared. A moment later she returned, her arms extending through the fire. That one was new on him. Ordinary floo couldn’t do that. The Augur’s hands were thin and long, ending in pointed navy colored nails and covered in rings. Clutched between them was a large cloth wrapped tome.

“Oh? And what if it doesn’t? Or what if I don’t find anything?”

There was a pause as Aurelia likely communicated her answer, then she frowned and tilted her head. She seemed to be considering something. There was silence for a moment longer and then…

“Severus?” His heart crawled up into his throat and beat there mercilessly. Was he found out? He knew he could handle O’Connor, but he knew nothing of Aurelia. Did she practice the Dark Arts their family knew of? For that matter did O’Connor? _Could_ he actually take her? Had she been hiding her real power?

“No. I think not. One shouldn’t put all their eggs in one basket. He knows enough the way it is.”

The pressure in his chest lightened. She didn’t know he was there. They were just discussing him. What were they saying though?

“Yes, but it hasn’t even been two years. That’s not long enough to learn anything. I’m testing the waters so to speak. Only time will tell with him. He’s not the type you should rush.”

Their conversation just kept getting more confusing. Was she hoping she could sway him to her side? All the Dark Arts books she had in her office; did she hope to tempt him by playing on his fascination with them? O’Connor muttered two syllables he couldn’t understand and clutched the book to her chest like a life line, her thumb stroking the spine.

“I should get back to the school. Thank you for your help.” There was a pause as the Augur replied and O’Connor smiled fondly. “I’m sure it wouldn’t. Good night. I’ll contact you again soon.”

Augur Aurelia nodded once and disappeared from the fire. The vibrant purple flames died down and reverted to their natural color. O’Connor didn’t move though. She stayed there, still as a statue watching the flames until they had died down to nothing more than glittering coals.

_Why is she just standing there? Does she know? Is she trying to wait me out?_

“Dammit. I can’t not do it.”

The little purple pouch reappeared and she threw a pinch of powder into the embers.

“Ciaran’s Hall!”

The purple flames roared high, crackling fiercely. For a heartbeat they remained empty and then a shocking face appeared and Snape had to smother his gasp. It was a male, if his bone structure was anything to go by, and his skin was blackened and flakey as if he’d been burned. His bronze colored eyes glared out of the fire until they alighted upon the redhead. He grinned solicitously, but it looked more like a sneer.

“Cousin. Playing dress up again are we?”

“I’m working if you must know.”

_Cousin?_

O’Connor’s words from last year came back to him.

_“My family history is rife with conflict with the “Dark Arts”. Dark Arts even Voldemort has no knowledge of. Arts so dark they twist your very person to reflect your blackened soul.”_

_She said they don’t practice them. She lied! Is she using those arts now? Does she look like that? It must be convenient being a metamorphmagus then._

“Still working for that bumbling ministry? How droll. So, to what do I owe this pleasure?“

“I need Sinead’s Root.”

“Sinead’s Root? Whatever do you need that for?” Ciaran drawled. He grinned liked the Cheshire Cat.

“You don’t really need to know.”

“Oh but I can probably guess. Been playing around with one of _Augur Aurelia’s_ books haven’t you? Having a bit of trouble?” He laughed darkly. “You don’t have the constitution.”

“I’m not going to have this conversation with you. All things are situational. Now, will you get me the root? I can get you your unsavory preferences.”

“Yes, stale ones. No venom either. Too afraid. I heard about last year from dear old grandmother. Nearly got your pet killed.”

“Do not refer to him that way!” She roared. The forest creaked dangerously and the small foliage at her feet withered. Some of the playfulness dropped from Ciaran’s face. “Don’t lump me in with you! I don’t share your ideals. Blood is _all_ we share. And I’ve told you this before. I will not kill a Unicorn for you! You can take the deceased or nothing at all!”

Snape stared at the scene before him feeling disjointed. The whole situation had just been turned on its head. This made it seem like she hadn’t done any Astral Projection or rituals yet. So if she hadn’t then who had attacked Filius and Minerva? Had she defended him as well? She didn’t want to be lumped in with Ciaran’s principles and he had referred to Snape as a pet. What did that mean?

“Now, do you want the dead Unicorn or not?”

“You know what I’d _really_ like.”

“A yearlong supply of Aloe Vera?”

All pretense of levity dropped from Ciaran’s countenance and he glared at her. His eyes darkened and Snape could see red light beginning to show from the cracks in his skin, like he was lit by some fire burning within.

“Think you’re funny do you?”

Light even shown from his mouth as he spoke.

“I’m hilarious. You’re not getting it. Ever. It will stay where it is forever more. Now, either you take my deal and help me out of the good of whatever heart fragments you have left or we walk away now. I don’t have time to waste. Lives are at stake. So what will it be?”

“Gaiseadh leat!”

The violet flames roared high and then they and Ciaran were gone. O’Connor sighed heavily and extinguished the embers.

“I knew it was a long shot, but still…”

She shook her head and turned back towards the castle. Something glinted at her waist and Snape felt his stomach drop. She was wearing her charms. They hadn’t been close enough before but if she kept walking the monocle would tell her he was there under the disillusionment charm. He quickly huddled down against the large root system and removed the spell. It was blessedly dark in the forest and he hoped his cloak would be enough cover should her wand sweep too far his way.

Snape remained where he was for several minutes after O’Connor left the clearing, worried she might turn around. Instead he sat there, looking at the charms she had given him for Christmas. The compass glinted as a small sliver of moonlight slipped through the trees before disappearing again. Had she given these to him to keep track of him? Were they modified to keep him off her trail? The bell had not chimed to signal ill intent as she passed. Why hadn’t the compass told her he was following her then? The little needle on _his_ compass wobbled slightly as it tracked her progress back to the castle.

_None of this makes any sense. I don’t understand. First it seemed without a doubt that she was the attacker. Her conversation with her cousin made it seem as if she were trying to help._

He didn’t even want to think on that conversation. There was so much there to take in it made his head spin.

_I’ve gotten no closer to figuring this out. One conversation implicates her and the other the opposite. The second opens up more concerns. Even if she isn’t guilty of the recent attacks she may be dangerous for other reasons._

A little voice in the back of his mind piped up that he’d also only heard half of the first conversation. It could make her _seem_ guilty because everything was out of context. Coco liked her and had commented on the kindness of the Irish. She was helping him get better at wandless magic. She’d helped him save a pure-blood student last year. Why do that if she hated them enough to be attacking them this year? He cursed loudly and stood to leave the forest. Speculation would get him nowhere. He should have just stopped her in the Entrance Hall and asked her his questions like he’d originally intended.

_She would have answered me or hexed me but at least I’d have had my answer by now._

The castle was still and silent as he pushed open the front doors. O’Connor must have come through and gone already. He turned to the main staircase and made it to the second floor before he was stopped. Albus stood there in ridiculous robes of midnight blue with twinkling stars, a matching nightcap, and slippers. He was holding a mug of what smelled like hot chocolate and looked surprised to see his Potions master.

“Severus! What are you doing out of bed so late: and all the way up here no less?”

“I needed to speak with O’Connor.”

There was no use in lying.

“At this hour?”

“Yes Headmaster. It couldn’t wait.” He had to beat down the urge to roll his eyes and sneer.

“You seem troubled, my boy. Is something wrong?” The older wizard paused for a moment, his blue eyes searching Snape’s face. Something seemed to occur to him then. “Does this have to do with our discussion after the welcoming feast?”

He was hard pressed to keep the surprise from his face, but his eyes were stricken. The old man was too damn clever. He hadn’t wanted to discuss his worries with anyone but O’Connor; at least not until he had spoken to her and determined if there was a reason to. Now he was stuck. There was no way Albus was going to let go of this. He’d be worried O’Connor had done something to him if he refused. He wasn’t someone who refrained from speaking his mind after all.

“It is isn’t it? Come to my office and we’ll discuss it.”

* * *

Dumbledore lit the hearth in his office and urged the younger wizard to take the armchair opposite his before the fire.

“Now, why don’t you tell me what’s troubling you. Has something happened?”

Snape stared into the flames feeling confused and torn. At the start of this nighttime adventure he would have gladly turned O’Connor over to Dumbledore. Now the thought of telling him what he’d seen in the forest left him feeling like someone had performed Langlock on him. He knew it was the right thing to do, to notify Albus of a possible suspect, but it felt wrong. _He_ could be wrong.

_I didn’t even give her the benefit of the doubt. I just went straight to accusing her because I’m afraid to trust._

“Severus?”

He decided he would just tell Albus of his earlier concerns and leave out the trip through the forest.

“I didn’t want to accuse her of anything outright, but I was concerned by some coincidences I had noticed.”

He felt dirty as he thought of her playing the violin at his beside and squeezed his knees subconsciously.

“Go on, my boy.”

“The students who have been attacked so far are all pure-blood, all students of hers. She was also the last to be in contact with each of them; two of them alone, before they returned to their dorms.”

“I see. You do have a point.” Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Did she not help rescue Miss Stillwell last year? She’s a pure-blood.”

“I am aware of that Albus. It’s why I didn’t want to accuse her outright. Just ask her about it.”

Blue eyes bore into him skeptically.

“I feel there is something you’re not telling me, Severus.”

“Like what?”

_How the hell…?_

“I don’t know. I’m looking for _you_ to tell _me._ This does not seem like enough to get you half running through the castle to speak with her so late at night. Now what is it that has put a bee in your bonnet?”

Snape stared at him again feeling like his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth. He didn’t want to tell him about the books, but he was stuck. What else could he say? Albus knew there was something. He was a spy dammit! He fooled the Dark Lord! How could he not come up with a simple lie right now? Albus laid a gentle hand on his knee and gave him a twinkling look that seemed to pass right through him.

“Despite your protests last year you’ve found a friend after all.” Snape wanted to protest, but couldn’t unlock his jaw. “I will not accuse her until we have greater proof, something not circumstantial, and I will simply tell her members of the staff came to me with concerns. We will observe her, you will not be implicated, no harm no foul; and if another attack happens she’ll have an alibi. You two can continue to become friends as if nothing happened.

_We can’t because I’ll never stop feeling dirty. Not that I was ever clean to begin with. It’s all right. I didn’t deserve her friendship in the first place._

Like a broken damn he spilled his concerns about the books. He told him of her collection of Dark Arts books and how the two thin tomes were tucked away in the back. He was sure to voice the fact that she was likely using the books to search for clues on who the actual attacker was. Albus didn’t protest the assumption and actually agreed with him.

“We must look at all possibilities. I will speak to her in the morning. There will be no judgment cast. Abigail will simply be kept under observation until she is proven innocent by another attack or…”

Snape did not want to think about the “or”. He bid the Headmaster goodnight and left to stew in his quarters until he passed into restless slumber in his armchair before the dying embers.

_I’ve gone and mucked it up again._

_“I can’t pretend anymore. You’ve chosen your way, I’ve chosen mine.”_

* * *

Snape had managed _maybe_ two hours of sleep before he needed to get up and ready for the day. He showered quickly, threw on a new set of robes, and made his way to the Great Hall. Fate was indeed working against him after all. O’Connor was descending the staircase as he stepped into the Entrance Hall. Her face was like thunder and a man with chestnut hair and eyes accompanied her. She glared and gestured wildly at the man.

“How do you like the ministry assigned guard masquerading as my intern?!” She hissed quietly.

“Ministry assigned…?”

“Yes. Indeed.” She looked away furiously, rubbing a hand over her mouth in agitation. Her eyes were fierce as she whipped back around to face him. He could hardly breathe his heart was beating so fast. 

“Dumbledore came to my room with him first thing this morning; said some of the staff had voiced… concerns. He told me while he practically _searched_ my office; took two of my books with him. I told him they were for research. I wanted to see if someone was using Astral Projection to attack Filius and Minerva.”

Snape felt sick. Here she was ready to just offer up the information he wanted. It wasn’t even some big secret, her voice was too light for that and she wasn’t even trying to keep quiet. He hadn’t trusted her enough and here she was confiding her feelings in him about her colleagues doubts; never even assuming he could have been one of them.

“I don’t understand. How could they ever think that I would…?”

She turned to look at him and paused, no doubt confused by his stricken expression.

“Snape what’s…?”

She stared at him for a moment, realization dawning on her soon enough. Her eyes shimmered with pain and betrayal.

“It was you. _You_ were the one who went to Dumbledore. He already knew the books were there because _you_ told him. Why? How could you think…? After everything we…?”

“Abigail, please, I…”

“ **No.** ” She stepped back away from him, holding out a hand to keep him at a distance. “There’s no need to explain Professor Snape. You’ve made thing pretty clear. I’m heading straight to my classroom Jonah. I’m no longer hungry.”

“O’Connor gathered up her robes and ascended the Main Staircase with dignity despite the tear tracks on her face. Snape watched her go feeling hollow inside.

O’Connor did not appear in the Great Hall for meals for the rest of the week. She did not speak in the weekly staff meeting and students could be heard in the halls discussing her lackluster behavior; speculating on the cause. The staff didn’t need to speculate. One of them must have overheard or seen them in the Entrance Hall and told the others. They refused to speak with him and he hadn’t received so many dark looks since his hearing with the Wizengamot after the Dark Lord’s downfall.

Coco had found out as well. O’Connor was more than likely calling on her to bring meals to her office. The little elf had dropped by his quarters only once to give him a sound scolding, calling him a bad wizard, and then flat out refused to answer any of his summonses afterwards. She must have rallied the other elves against him as well. Any food he put on his plate turned to liver and onions; even his breakfast.

* * *

_???_

_That damn brat! What a teacher’s pet! I can’t believe the third year prat ratted us out! I guess that’s what we get for talking about it in the library, but still! Some people will do anything to get a pat on the back from the teachers. Luckily Jane and I got away, but Filch caught the others. Now they’re stuck polishing the Trophy room and cleaning cauldrons for the next week. Guess they won’t be having parties in the old music room anymore. That was the last chance before Professor O’Connor fixed it up and it starts getting used again. Grr! I didn’t even get to have a first party. That damn brat!_

* * *

By Friday evening Snape was hungry, angry, and dispirited. He hurled a vase across the room into the fireplace and upended the coffee table. Did they think they could make him feel any worse than he already did? They could not hate him more than he hated himself at the moment. He threw himself into his chair before the fire and started unlacing his boots.

Twenty years ago a lonely kid in a dilapidated neighborhood had sought and found kinship and camaraderie in Lily Evans, a little girl who shared his gift. Six years or so later he sought to fill his desire to belong to something bigger than himself, to have power, and made one of the biggest mistakes of his life. The mistake that led first to the loss of his friendship with the only woman he’d ever love, and then the loss of her life.

Since then he sought nothing more for himself. He would spend the rest of his life living only to do what he could to atone for that mistake. He held no desire for friendship or anything else. Then Abigail O’Connor came into his life and turned everything upside down. She was like a flickering and ever changing flame and he a moth helplessly drawn to it. O’Connor was a skilled and powerful witch with the brains to match. She was like him in temperament and never backed down from his moods; often able to show him what it was like to be on the receiving end.

Against his will and better judgment he found himself growing fond of her, again wishing for a friend. It was vexing. He didn’t deserve such a thing, having proved that yet again, but god did he want it. So it seemed had she. 

_“This is a second chance for you; one that you can make the right decisions with this time.”_

The headmaster’s words rung in his ears and he got to his feet. He had made mistakes again, but perhaps if she could forgive him where Lily had not he could do better. This time he wouldn’t be a fool and he wouldn’t hurt his friend any further. Snape crossed his quarters, threw open his door, and rushed to her office. The familiarity of the situation did not escape him. He only hoped the end result would be different this time.

* * *

Abigail stared down into her cup of tea, her feet resting on the hearth grate. She was still in shock that Snape had gone to Dumbledore and accused her of perpetrating the attacks. After everything that happed last year; after Christmas and New Years; after she spent a week caring for him because his fever was too high for him to remain upright. He didn’t trust her. She was an interloper carrying too many secrets; a scapegoat to be blamed for the wrongs at the castle.

Jonah pretended to be engrossed in the book Augur Aurelia had given her and feigned ignorance to the sniffles and the tears brushed away. He was pissed that, that bastard Professor had hurt his cousin in such a way. He’d gladly hex the man but it wouldn’t do for anyone to find out who he was. For now he’d just have to hope Snape got what was coming to him.

They were startled out of their individual reveres when an almighty bang sounded at the door. O’Connor jumped to her feet and looked at the door with alarm. Was he coming for her? Now would be his chance. Steal her away while suspicions were aroused. He could easily make it look like she had run away. Well he had another thing coming if he thought it would be that simple.

She crossed the room determinedly, ignoring Jonah’s sputtering as he scrambled to hide the book, and threw open the door. For a moment she stared into the empty hallway with confusion, then movement drew her gaze downward. Snape was hunched on the floor at her feet trying to stem the flow of blood from his nose. The laces of his boots were untied.

“If you thought throwing yourself face first into my door would get me to forgive you you’re sorely mistaken.” She tried to shut the door but he reached out a hand to prevent it.

“Please wait! Just hear me out! I want to apologize.”

“What? Are you going to try and explain away what you did; down play it? Do you feel bad and your want me to forgive you so you stop feeling guilty?”

“No!” He licked his lip and spat blood on the floor. His nose was streaming steadily. “I do feel terrible but that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because I was wrong. I hurt you and you didn’t deserve that and I’m sorry. I want to earn your forgiveness, but I’m under no illusion that I deserve it.”

Jonah scoffed and Snape snapped his head around to look at him. They stared at each other for a moment and O’Connor wondered if the Potions master would clam up now that he knew he had an audience. Surprisingly he didn’t. His dark eyes found hers again, bruises already forming beneath them.

“Even if you don’t forgive me, I’ll accept that; but I needed to tell you regardless. It was foolish for me to even consider you the guilty party. You were right. After everything that’s happened, the thought never even should have crossed my mind.”

“So why did it?” She growled. “Were you so worried by my personal life not being laid out at your feet that you thought surely she must be hiding something?”

“No I…” He fidgeted as he tilted his head back, pinching his nose. It didn’t seem to want to quit. “I was being a coward.”

O’Connor frowned, confusion flickering in her eyes.

“We were becoming close and I…” He grit his jaw, the words catching. She knew what he was trying to say. “So I decided to just assume the worst. Then if I was right I wouldn’t be caught by surprise and it wouldn’t…”

She glared down at him. She was starting to understand the dour man a little more. Life had indeed been unkind it seemed. That did not excuse his actions though.

“So what? You decided that instead of talking to me about it you would just tell Dumbledore I was attacking people?”

“No! I never wanted to tell Dumbledore anything! I…” He rubbed a hand across his mouth, smearing the blood there. His nose had slowed to a trickle now. “I was coming here Sunday night to speak to you but…”

The man was really looking anxious now and she had a good feeling why. She let her arms drop to her sides with her fists clenched. The bastard had fucking spied on her again. No wonder he thought he was right! How did this one man seem to evade every instinct she’d perfected over the years?! How did he always manage to draw out some secret she held?

“I followed you into the forest and back out. I was on my way here when I ran into Dumbledore.” O’Connor’s eyes were like steel and he quickly continued. “I told him _nothing_ about what I saw in the forest. I only expressed my concerns and told him about the books. They’re what brought all this on.”

“Why didn’t you just ask about them when you first saw them?”

“I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. I was trying to ignore my paranoia; but instead it festered and won in the end.” He dabbed at his face just to keep his hands busy. “I was wrong and I’m sorry.”

O’Connor glared down at him, arms crossed, and for a few moments neither of them moved. Then with lightning swiftness she reached down to seize his head squeezing slightly as she pulled him up from the floor. The pads of her thumbs pressed painfully against the sides of his nose, her fingers splayed through his hair to curl around the base of his skull. His pulse beat a steady rhythm beneath the edge of her palm. She leaned down as she brought them nose-to-nose, her gaze more predatory than he’d ever seen it before.

“And if I were to tell you, you were right all along?”

He stared back unflinchingly, his gaze and pulse steady.

“I wouldn’t believe you.”

She searched his face for any hint of a lie and took a chance at probing his mind. They locked eyes and she felt his shield give way, crumbling like walls of sand. A sharp breath hissed in through her nostrils. Had he really just done that?

“I could look at anything I wanted right now and you wouldn’t be able to stop me fast enough.”

“I know, but I also know you won’t.”

“Mm. Episkey.”

She squeezed his nose hard as she uttered the spell and he gave a quiet cry at the pressure before she released him. Jonah laughed as Snape cradled his nose while she walked back in the room.

“Leave us.”

Snape felt his heart plummet. It was Lily all over again. O’Connor would not forgive him. He stood to leave.

“Wait, what?” Jonah said. Snape’s head snapped around.

“You heard me.” O’Connor said. “Just make sure you’re back by morning in case someone comes by.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” The brunet glared at the Potions master.

“It’s fine.”

“Whatever.” Jonah slammed his shoulder against Snape’s as he left, muttering obscenities under his breath.

“Are you coming in or not?” O’Connor gave an agitated wave of her hand and he felt himself pulled forward before the door slammed behind him. “Sit.”

The redhead was already seated behind her desk, left elbow propped on the armrest, her knuckles pressed against her mouth. He sat across from her wandering what she was going to say. For a long time there was silence. She stared into space and he stared at a knot in the wood of her desk.

“I can’t keep doing this rollercoaster ride with you Snape. I’ve given you the benefit of the doubt, my trust, despite your past. I’ve stopped questioning your allegiance. I’ve even started to see you as a friend, but here we are again. That’s the second time you’ve spied on me this year. The second time you’ve made it seem like I have some nefarious plot.

“I understand how difficult it is to trust. Just last year I was reminded of that. It was a blow I _never_ saw coming. Then I come here and for some reason I just keep fucking up and letting you see or telling you things I’ve always kept to myself. I thought maybe it meant something, that maybe I could have someone outside my family who I could be open with. Then this happens; another setback.”

Snape never looked away from her as she lectured him. He never turned from the emotions in her eyes. He met her gaze unwaveringly, the obsidian depths seemed to try and convey his contrition and desire for repentance. His mind was still open to her but she didn’t try and sift through it. She wanted him to act better and _show_ her that she could trust him. If she told him, if she _showed_ him, everything she couldn’t have him telling everyone else.

“Can we do this Snape?”

“I want to. I never would have thought it possible again for me to want such a thing, but I would like for us to be friends.”

The statement made her curious. Had a friendship hurt him before? She tried to think if she’d seen him with any other friends that weren’t Death Eaters.

_That’s right. He and Lily Evans were often on the grounds together. I saw them arguing with Potter and Black now and then. Come to think of it I don’t remember seeing them together during their last year or so. I wonder if something happened aside from him joining the Death Eaters._

“I would like that too, but you’re going to have to work your way back into my good graces. Show me we can trust each other.”

Snape nodded resolutely and for a moment they simply stared at one another; no thoughts, just whirls of emotion.

“Scone? I have clotted cream and jam.” She lifted the cloche on her desk to reveal the still steaming treat. Snape groaned exasperatedly and dropped his head into his hands as she laughed.

Snape spent the night with her in the office. She told him that she was trying to use Astral Projection to see if someone else was using it to move about the castle unseen. Those who used it left a trail that another user could see. Augur Aurelia believed a necromancy ritual was to blame for the student’s comas. Someone was probably trying to recall a soul from beyond to converse with or trying to pull a ghost into a recently deceased body or a golem they created. So O’Connor was researching rituals that might pertain to such a thing.

“In the forest when you said about one wrong move you were talking about the Astral Projection going wrong weren’t you?”

She looked annoyed for a moment then sighed.

“Yes. It’s a very difficult art and I have no desire to remain permanently separated from my body.”

“She thought I could help, didn’t she?”

“Yes.”

There was a moment of silence as they each stared into their teacups.”

“Do you really want to try?”

“Not yet, but I will.”

Jonah returned shortly before four in the morning to find them asleep in the armchairs before the fire.

* * *

Snape was awoken the next morning by a beam on sunlight coming through the window to shine on his face. O’Connor was still sleeping soundly, a curtain of red hair hiding half her face from view. Jonah was stretched across the couch, right arm and leg hanging off the side. He was snoring lightly with his face pressed against the armrest.

For a time he watched them sleep thinking about the previous evening and how differently things could have gone. O’Connor hadn’t said she forgave him, but she hadn’t said she wouldn’t. She didn’t turn away or dismiss him. She still wanted to try and be friends. The thought made him feel lighter than he had in a long time. Things would be different with O’Connor. He would not ruin this friendship like he had with Lily.

“It’s rude to stare you know.”

Snape came out of his revere to notice a single deep green eye staring back at him. He quickly averted his gaze, his cheeks feeling warm.

“I was merely lost in thought.”

“I noticed.”

She groaned and stretched her long limbs, back arching out of the chair. Her left shoulder popped loudly.

“I didn’t expect for us to fall asleep in our chairs.” She grinned amusedly at him. “Are you hungry? I can make us some crepes.”

He stared at her.

“What?”

“How can you just go back to normal like that? Cooking for us like nothing happened. I thought you’d be much colder towards me for some time.”

“What good would that do us in repairing the damage? Let’s just move forward. Now, crepes?”

Before Snape could respond there was a knock on the door. They both whipped around to face it and Jonah sat up quickly.

“Oh no. Something tells me I’m about to be proven innocent.” O’Connor whispered quietly.

“Don’t worry.” Jonah said. He quickly straightened his hair and clothes so it didn’t look as if he’d been sleeping instead of watching her.

“No. _I’ll_ speak to him.”

Snape squared his shoulders and pulled open her office door. Dumbledore’s sorrowful look changed to one of shock as he saw his Potions master standing there looking quite rumpled and sporting two black eyes.

“Severus! Whatever are you doing here, my boy? Are you all right?!”

“I am fine. I merely lost a fight with a door last night.”

He looked away, cheeks warm. The headmaster’s confused blue eyes quickly flicked up and down and his voice came out strange. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything then.”

Snape’s face colored and he quickly straightened his appearance.

“We’ve done nothing of the sort! We fell asleep in separate chairs before the fire.”

“Ah, I see. Good, good. I don’t need two wizards coming in and out of these quarters at odd hours. The students might catch on.” Snape blanched. “None the less I would have been even more surprised were that the case. Jonah’s presence notwithstanding, we were all under the impression Miss O’Connor was quite cross with you.”

“I came to apologize. I was wrong to have suspected her in the first place.”

“Well I’m afraid it’s all moot at this point. Another student has slipped into a coma. Given her relation with the family and their views, even if she wasn’t under observation I’d be hard pressed to suspect her.”

“Who was it Albus?”

“Percy Weasley.”

“No!”

They could only watch as she pushed past them to run down the hall.

* * *

An hour later Snape and O’Connor were standing side-by-side in the infirmary. They had completed their observations in awkward silence and now watched as Molly cried over her son, Arthur holding her tightly.

“Is there nothing in this castle Dumbledore doesn’t know is happening?”

“Perhaps you and your visitor needed to be more discreet.”

“I think maybe I should remove the portraits in my hallway.”

“I don’t know why you’re so sore about it. It’s not exactly like it isn’t allowed for two teachers to fall in love.” She scoffed, he ignored it. “The headmaster just doesn’t want us having all manner of affairs in the castle. It isn’t professional”

He paused for a moment, a realization coming to him.

“You berated me on New Year when I…”

She cut him off.

“No. No. I berated you for making it seem like I was some slut picking a new boy toy each year; which was incredibly rude and uncalled for on your part. I _still_ can’t believe you said that.”

“Well forgive me for being annoyed. It occurred to me if that were the case you were too busy fraternizing with him to remember you’d promised me a chess match. That would have been fine had you told me _not_ to climb five flights of finicky stairs to get to your office.” He glared peevishly at her. She tried to hide her smirk. That sounded more like jealousy to her.

_Aww! He wants my time all to himself. I guess someone who doesn’t really cultivate friendships_ would _want their friend’s time all to themselves._

“If you’re planning on cultivating something with Levitski then what does it matter if Dumbledore knows?”

“I’m not. I don’t really do long term; and no that doesn’t mean I’ll just pick up somebody new next year. We just kind of happened after Halloween. I don’t plan to continue it past the end of the school year.”

“Why not?”

“I like my independence. I can do what I like when I like where I like. No compromising over any of it; no one to share my house with and make it _ours._ I can do whatever I want with it. No arguments over money. I’m not saying that’ll never change, but it’s not what I’m looking for right now. Besides, it’s kind of difficult to cultivate relationships when you can’t tell someone everything about yourself.”

“I see. Will we need to change the word to enter your quarters then?”

“Why? It’s not like I gave it to Nikolai.” O’Connor sniffed and dabbed at her eyes as the healers from St. Mungo’s arrived. “You, me, and Jonah are the only ones who know it.”

“I see.” Snape was unable to say why that made his chest feel like it housed a horde of butterflies. “Jonah is one of your family members isn’t he?”

She grinned.

“I have a very extensive family. My dad was one of six, my mother was one of three, and _her_ mother was one of thirteen. A couple family members also work for the ministry and when Jonah heard what was going on he volunteered.”

“No one knows you’re all related do they?”

“Nope.”

She offered nothing else and he knew it wasn’t because Molly was walking over to them.

“Abigail, promise me you’ll figure out who’s doing this. Promise me you’ll be able to help them.”

“Don’t worry Molly. Snape and I, the Aurors, we’ll do everything we can to resolve this. You have my word.”

O’Connor hugged them and the four walked to the front doors. As the Weasleys left and walked to the front gates Snape turned to his friend. She was staring after the redheads resolutely.

“You’re ready to try.”

“I am.”

* * *

???

_Something strange is happening. I think my bangle may be a magical one. Ever since I got it everyone I write about falls into a weird coma. It’s like it’s punishing everyone who hurts me or my friends. First Camilla and Samara, then Dorset, and now that know-it-all brat Percy. I’ve never heard of anything like it and I don’t know what exactly it’s doing or if they’ll ever wake up. The scariest part is I don’t think I care._


End file.
